


War of Hearts

by Hunter_67



Category: X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men (Original Timeline Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Memories, Night Terrors, Repressed Memories, Vietnam War, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 65,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hunter_67/pseuds/Hunter_67
Summary: "Be the woman that when your feet hit the ground in the morning, the devil himself says, 'Great. She's up.'"Quite frankly, I'm not that woman. I'm more along the lines of the devil's mistress, although I loathe the man.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment of what you think! I'd love to hear your feedback! :)

I walked into the massive building, nothing short of a castle, and let out a low breath. Suddenly I was conscious of every person on the campus, of the high ceilings, the split staircase in front of me. Here and there was the excited scream or yell of one of the children, my entire body forcing itself to calm.

 _Please, join me in my office._ A man's voice flooded my mind, deep and controlled, calm and concise.

 _Where is it?_ I asked, glancing down one of the long halls on my right.

_You know the way…_

 My feet turned for themselves, my bones stronger than ever. I inhaled slowly, each exhale a quiet scream for my body to relax. Step, step, step… subconsciously I knew exactly where I was headed, yet I couldn't predict which turn I would take next.

Why did I come to this place? What good would it be to me? Just more pain and sorrow… I thought to myself, shaking my head. The small flame of hope burned faithfully though my heart still and I understood why I walked into Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

I nudged the door to my left, it's sliding wood slipping to hide behind the walls. Peering in, I saw a man in his later years sitting behind a desk, an odd simplicity to him. I was no fool though, as this man was more complex than any other being I had ever encountered.

“Welcome my dear, to Xavier's Home for Gifted Youngsters,” he said, a glimmer in his eyes. I stepped into the room, observing the large number of chairs that were scattered around it, each facing the same direction. I made my way towards one closer to the man and sat carefully. Each muscle in my body was constricted, my back straight as a board.

“I would recommend carefully making your way through my memories,” I said lowly, my voice almost a growl. The man nodded once and smiled faintly. He closed his eyes and I noticed his body relax in his chair. One… two… three… I thought, fully aware that he could hear my counting too. I leaned back in my chair, my eyes never leaving his body.

Suddenly he stiffened, his knuckles white. The arms of the chair shook and he turned his head away from me. The calmness left his body, anguish and pain its replacement. Five seconds. Five seconds of normalcy before he had reached my past.

“Tread lightly,” I murmured, looking down at my hands, who were wrestling with each other. I fidgeted with the ring on my finger and twirled it around. Without adjusting my head, I looked at the man in the chair as he finally opened his eyes. They were close to bloodshot, his body trembling. He recovered quickly though, with a small shiver to rid himself of my emotions.

“What a world you have lived in my dear,” he started, a new tone in his voice.

“What a world indeed,” I agreed, tilting my head back. “Perhaps you can help me with my world now.”

“I am Charles Xavier, or Professor X as others know me. What do you believe I can help you with?” Charles raised an eyebrow and tilted his head forward. I sighed and slumped lower in my seat, my neat posture only a thing of the past.

“I need a place to slow down, to get a bearing on where I am,” I said, our eyes never leaving the other. “I won’t go into detail about that though… you know the real reason of why I want to stay here.”

Charles nodded. “Yes, I saw that. How many decades have you lived through? I’m sure you know this isn't a question of your age my dear, but of your abilities.”

“Too many. I was born in 1833… any history lesson from me after that is well worth learning,” I responded. Charles continued to nod and rested his hands on his desk.

“I am in need of a new history teacher. I’m afraid my old one went to work as the Secretary of Mutant Affairs… I’m sure you will be a good replacement. I'll have someone here to show you your room, as well as where you will be teaching, if you do decide to stay.”

“Yes, please,” I said eagerly, standing. Charles smiled at me, but I could see behind his eyes that he was still coping with what he saw in my memories. A knock was heard behind me and Charles turned his attention to whoever was standing in the doorway.

“Ah, Logan. Thank you for coming. Can you please show our new teacher to her room?” Charles said pleasantly. My breathing hitched, my body frozen. The uncertainty lasted a mere second, but it was enough to throw me off my game.

His voice sounded through the entire room and shook me to my core. It's been years since I heard it last, and it was nothing like how it sounded now. I exhaled sharply and spun on one heel to face him. A gritting noise made its way to my ears as my jaw clenched. There he stood leaning leisurely on the wall next to him. His hair was split into two waves, his eyes like Tennessee whiskey in the sunlight. He hadn't aged a day since Three Mile Island. I blinked once, amazed that he was still there when my eyes reopened.

“Welcome, Professor. Which room?” He asked, gruff and serious. His eyes made their way over my body in less than a second before stopping at my face. Our eyes locked and I felt the air leave my lungs. His eyebrow twitched for the slightest of moments before he rested into a smug smile. I tugged the edge of my shirt down, although I wasn't sure what I was worried about.

“The empty one at the end of the left hall. You know the one,” Charles directed. Logan nodded, standing upright. He stared at me, waiting for me to follow him. I forced myself to move, one foot in front of the other until I reached the other side of the room. There was a bare meter in between us. If my heart rate picked up any faster than it already was, it’d sprout legs and go sprinting down the hall. He towered over me and grinned, taking a step towards me.

“Oh look there it goes,” I breathed to myself, pathetically joking to myself about my heart.

“What?” Logan asked, caught off guard almost. I snapped out of my revere and locked eyes with him.

“What? Oh, it's nothing.” I recovered, waving my hand. Get yourself under control.

“Huh,” he said, eyeing me warily. He turned away from me and began walking down the hall. I took a step to follow before Charles called out.

“Oh, and Alice, you’re free to come and go as you please… we aren’t a prison here.” I pivoted around to look at him. The bald man smiled softly at me and nodded. I gave him a sad tight lipped smile and continued on my way to follow Logan.

We made our way through the school, kids with books and bags walking past us. They regarded Logan and I with a keen interest, their eyes locking on me and staring until we had passed by. Logan said nothing, simply walking ahead with an intense stride and no apparent care in the world. I looked down at the floor, feeling the air around me as it shifted and warped around the other bodies in the hall. Logan wore boots that were neatly kept, probably new if I knew any better. Soon the kids were back in their next class and Logan slowed his pace.

“What’s your name?” He asked nonchalantly and I winced internally. _You of all people should know_.

“Alice. Alice Chamberlain,” I answered, my eyes glued to the hardwood floor. I listened to the faint rustle of leather as Logan glanced at me.

“What can you do? Other than just be a new history teacher for the kids,” he alluded. I shook my head softly.

“It’s hard to understand. Trust me, hard as hell to understand,” I said darkly. My eyes widened and my head snapped up. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that you’re too stupid or anything, it’s just I’m never sure how to explain it and--”

“Chill out. It’s fine. Probably shouldn’t have asked anyway,” Logan said with a harsh breath and I groaned. I nudged his arm with my elbow.

“No, I shouldn’t have answered like I did. My power is somewhat similar to yours, if I’m honest,” I lied, letting my arm fall to my side. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to understand what I meant. He then looked at me with pity, his eyes softer than I had seen them today.

“I’m sorry then,” he clipped, and stopped in front of a door. His hand rested on the door knob for a couple of seconds before he turned it and let the door swing open on its own accord. I peered inside at a stunning wood walled room, the furniture polished and shining. The queen sized bed lay along the wall closest to the room next to it, a grey quilt sitting in as the comforter. Two windows allowed for the sun to shine into the spacious area, my new room being at the corner of the school.

I walked past Logan with two quick steps and laid my backpack on the bed. I heard the doorway creak as he leaned on it, looking in the room as well. His face was blank of much emotion and I cast him a soft smile, the first I’d given him. He smiled faintly in return and I hoped for the tiniest of moments that we could go back to how we used to be.

It was a pathetic hope with no chance of becoming real.

Logan and I stared at each other for a few moments longer before he shook his head and stood upright. “Your classes don’t start for another week or so, I think that’s what the professor said. Nice to meet you Alice…” He trailed off, taking a couple of steps backward into the hallway. With a final short nod, he turned and walked back down the hallway, although I didn’t hear his footsteps for very long before they stopped and another door opened.

I let out a long breath that I hadn’t quite known I was holding. I collapsed on the neatly made bed behind me and put my hands over my face. My breath picked up, becoming irregular as I felt tears form in my eyes. _Oh god, why did I come here_. The thought dashed through my mind in a second, but it was there long enough to force a sob out of my body. The laughter of children could be heard out of my window and I attempted to stop my hands from clawing at my cheeks. So much emotion had entered my life in such little time, I couldn’t imagine what Charles had felt when he looked at my past.

A light knock was heard from my doorframe. I quickly wiped my eyes and prayed they weren't red. Sitting up, I looked at the woman standing in the doorway. Her hair was short and white as snow, a stunning contrast against her dark skin. Our eyes met, hers the color of honey on a rainy day. I sniffled, pushing my emotions back into the trunk they came from.

“Professor told me there was a new arrival, but he failed to tell me you weren't a student. I’m Storm. You are..?” She began, her voice bright and precise.

“Alice,” I responded, shrugging. Storm smiled and waved to me.

“Come on, let me show you around. Logan isn’t big on new arrivals. Typically leaves them to me,” she explained as I began to follow her. I was just a tad bit taller than her, my strides slowing in order to match hers. Storm went on and on about the school as we walked from the kitchen to the basketball courts outside. She talked about how most of the kids stayed because it was the only place they could go and how other parents believed it was a prep school.

I nodded. “Wish this place was around when I was younger… it would have been great,” I commented, glancing at the woman next to me. She bobbed her head and smiled.

“Me too… I’m glad that I can stay here now though, to make sure they find their path.”

We continued to walk around the school talking about various topics before Charles found us out on the front lawn. I took note of the metal wheelchair he sat in and remembered the odd lever at the front of one of the arms of his chair earlier. Must have been the controller.

“How do you find yourself liking the campus Alice?” He asked, a wise smile adorning his face. Everyone here seemed so happy, something I hadn’t experienced in years. I nodded a couple of times, looking around the campus with a newfound interest.

“I certainly think I’ll like it here Professor… it has a lot to… offer,” I said carefully, my eyes never leaving his. His eyes squinted slightly as he kept smiling.

“Yes… I’m sure it offers much to you. Anyway, Storm,” he continued, turning to Storm who had been watching our exchange carefully. “Dinner is almost ready, would you like to show our new arrival here what to do?”

“Sure,” she grinned, tugging on my arm. “Let’s go back inside. Besides, there’s a couple of people you still need to meet.”

She began making her way to the front doors of the school and I jogged to keep up. I noticed the dark clouds brewing in the west and shivered.

“Seems like tonight’s going to bring a bit of rain don’t you think?” I called, hoping to make some conversation. Storm looked back at me and looked to where I was pointing. Her eyes widened for a small second before she responded.

“Oh!”

I glanced at her and back at the sky. The clouds were gone. A wind came from the east and blew my hair around my face, stinging my skin. Soon there was no hint at all that there were storm clouds, the sky was as clear as a blue marble on a hot summer day.

“I guess I don’t need to ask what you’re able to do,” I joked, quickening my pace to catch up to her. She let out a laugh and grinned.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just assume from my name,” Storm responded, taking the stairs three at a time. I quickly shuffled up to them too and saw a couple standing along the railings of the porch. They were both leaning out on the ivy covered stone rails, soft smiles adorning their faces. I slowed to a halt, infatuated by the idea that there could actually be couples here.

The woman turned to face me upon the man pointing quickly at me. I felt like ducking and hiding behind the wall in front of me, but something told me I wasn't being made fun of. Instead, she smiled at me and waved lightly, her long red hair tumbling in the wind. I immediately branded them as ‘The Red Couple’ as his sunglasses were just as red as her hair. The way he wore them, I felt they hardly ever came off. I waved in return, wishing to start off on a good foot with everyone here at the school.

Storm nudged at my elbow. “Hey, that's Jean and Scott. Let's go inside. I want you to meet someone before we eat,” she said, tugging at my jacket sleeve. I nodded distractedly and trailed my way up to the sky. Just before taking a step inside, I noticed Logan peering through the glass of one of the upstairs windows, his gaze on the woman… Jean.

I let out a breath and closed my eyes. Competition. What was I kidding. There was no competition. I was the new history teacher and she was everything he apparently wanted, judging by the look on his face. I shook the thought out of my head and strode into the building, turning my attention and curiosity to the person Storm wanted me to meet.

“We typically let the kids eat first, and then we go to eat. Gen should be in her office…” Storm trailed off, thinking about where this mystery person would be. I took small steps behind her, looking at each of the children running past me to get to the kitchen. Most were normal looking enough, but others had special features about them. Purple eyes, green hair, there was even a young boy with all black eyes. I subconsciously touched my hair and remembered the ease I had to change the way I looked.

“I'll follow you wherever you go, besides, I ate only an hour or so ago,” I prompted, a new spring in my step. Storm and I made our way to the middle of the school, where the house separated on either side of the staircase. My eyes wandered about, admiring the chandelier that hung close to the high ceilings. There were footsteps clomping down the steps and I heard Storm call out to whoever it was walking down.

“Make sure Bobby and Rogue don't go wandering off on their own, okay?” Storm said, her strong voice carrying throughout the room. A gruff grunt was heard in response and I looked in front of me to see Logan walking towards us. He had an unlit cigar in his mouth, his clothes having changed to match a white tank top and grey sweatpants. He rolled his eyes as Storm hit him lightly on the shoulder.

“Hey, I'm being serious,” she reinforced, forcing Logan to a halt. His eyes met mine as he sighed and grinned.

“It’ll be fine Storm. They're not doing anything anytime soon. Unless Bobby has a death wish, then…"

“Okay just stop,” Storm cut him off and groaned. She twirled on one heel and faced me. “Where was I? Oh! Yes, let's go meet Gen.”

I took a cautious step forward, my entire body trembling inwardly at being so close to Logan again. He began walking for the kitchens, but not before he leaned near my ear and whispered.

“She's a different one, that Gen. Too calm for a world like this, but exactly what we need. Be nice to her.” His breath was hot against my neck and I resisted the urge to shiver. I may have been a decent 5’5”, but I felt miniature next to his over six-foot figure. I nodded furiously, cursing myself for being so weak around him. Logan stood upright and moved to the side, allowing me to pass, a smug look adorning his rough face.

As soon as I made my way past him, I dashed to the door that I had seen Storm disappear behind. I shuffled down the stairs that were behind the door and found myself standing in the middle of a beautifully lit corridor of sorts. Beds lined either side of the large ballroom like area, and at the end sat a woman. Her white blonde hair was twirled up into a bun, a strange youthfulness to her I had never seen before. Fake window sills lined the walls, each portraying a bright sunny day near the beach.

Storm strutted to where the woman sat, her body relaxing. Although she had been pretty easy going while talking with me, it seemed every trouble she could possibly ever have disappeared upon seeing the lady sitting down. I had to admit myself that my entire soul felt refreshed, and the weight of a hundred lifetimes momentarily lifted.

The woman looked up at Storm and smiled, closing the book she was reading and standing. She almost floated around her desk, her footsteps so light. The two embraced each other in a hug before turning to me. I suddenly stopped walking, feeling as if I had intruded. Storm smiled widely and reached out her hand for me to hold. I took it, allowing her to lead me to the lady.

“Alice, this is Genevieve, our very own healer and counselor. Gen, this is Alice,” Storm introduced. I waved somewhat timidly at Gen, whose face lit up even brighter.

“It's so lovely to meet you!” She exclaimed, grabbing my wrist. Her hands were warm, the kind that made you want to melt and take a nap on the sand. Her eyes were sparkling like the restless ocean, although no problem could touch her.

The three of us stood in a circle conversing about this and that, but it was mainly Storm and Gen talking about Charles and the issues of the human world. Storm glanced at her watch and sighed.

“I need to go make sure everyone is in their room for the night. Jean and Scott need all the help they can get,” she explained and bid Gen and I a farewell.

“You can find your way back, right?” Storm asked me, a small bit of concern hiding in her eyes. I shook my head up and down, a smile playing its way on my lips.

“I'm sure I can. And if worse comes to worse, I can ask Gen to show me the way.” Storm nodded and walked out of the room, the echo from the closing door resounding through the space.

“How are you feeling?” Gen asked, her voice light. I stared at her intently, fighting within myself on whether or not I should tell her about how today had gone. The light in her eyes convinced me I could, but that was just it. Where would I start? What all would I say? I closed my eyes and let out a breath.

“Is it okay if I sit down? I’m more than willing to tell you everything… or at least something. I’m… I’m not sure where I want to start…” I said in short bursts.

Gen smiled and nodded. “Yeah, this bed right here. Go ahead and sit down,” she guided me to one of the pure white little beds and sat next to me, my hands in hers. I took a deep breath and bobbed my head to either side.

“You’re safe here…” Gen whispered, her eyes never leaving my hand. I stared at it too, curious about what was so interesting about it. Black paint covered my nails, a couple chipped at the edges. There weren’t any scars on my skin, a side effect of my ability. There was my ring… the skin underneath it pale as a sheet of paper compared to my tanned complexion. Gen’s finger ran over it for a half second and my mind wandered.

What was her power? Sure, a healer… but what sort? I had never met a mutant with the ability to put the world back together instead of tear it apart… What could she do? The curiosity got the better of me as I slipped from my own control. I stared at the stray hairs in Gen’s hair as she lightly rubbed my hand, each little whisp quivering at every breath I took. I smiled, feeling blissful in Gen’s presence, and began to tell her everything.

“My power is different from everyone else… It makes me… well it makes me dangerous. Intensely dangerous and far too strong for one person. It’s a curse really…” I started, looking to the ceiling. Gen nodded softly, motioning for me to continue.

“I can replicate the powers of others. My body alters my genes to match their mutation. That’s why I can’t really explain it to others… depending on how long I touch someone, that’s however much of their power I replicate. I used to…” My breath hitched. Did I want to tell her? Yes… I needed to tell someone. To physically speak the words. “I used to live with Logan. Years ago… so my body had plenty of time to replicate his gene… that’s why I don’t have any scars… I never need to go the hospital, I never get sick. I hardly use these…”

I allowed my hand to curl into a ball, the blades between my knuckles slicing the surface of my skin and showing themselves slowly. Gen let out a light breath, her hand moving out of the way of the blades. Their metal was warm, and I continued to look up, refusing to look at such a blatant reminder of what had left me.

“I can only use one ability at a time. If I’m in a fight, I can alternate quickly, but I haven’t been able to use two at the same time. I guess it keeps me a little more under control… I don’t know. I learned how to pick and choose, per say, what powers I want. Before that though… it was awful. Everyone I touched, I gained it. I couldn’t control any of it… it was so painful,” I closed my eyes and let out a breath. I felt the claws sliding back into my skin, the cuts healing within seconds. I glanced back down at my hand, where Gen had continued to rub.

What I saw wasn’t what I had seen the first time I looked. Dark black tendrils of _something_ moved underneath my skin, along my arm to my hand where they disappeared under Gen’s fingertips. She didn’t seem the least bit worried, but it was nothing like I expected. The pain that she had pushed out of my mind suddenly doubled, my fear and agony stronger than I had ever felt it before. _So much darkness_.

“Agh!” I screamed, ripping my arm away from her. Her head snapped up, eyes wide.

“Wait! You could see..?” Genevieve began, fear flashing behind her blue eyes.

“Yeah! I could see! What was that?” I yelled, caressing my hand with the other. It wasn’t that I feared Gen, I was startled.

“That was… how could you see them?”  

“How could someone so serene and calm and sweet feel such pain?” I gasped, struggling profusely to rid myself of her ability. I’d gotten so caught up in trying to understand how, that I’d let my body begin to create it in myself.

“No one else ever feels it. Besides, no one ever _sees_ it either. How did you see it?” Gen asked, scooting away from me. I shook my head.

“I momentarily lost control of my power. I began replicating yours, that’s why I saw it. That’s why I felt it. How can you so willingly take on so much pain? I saw Charles earlier as he looked at my memories, but what you do… it’s different,” I breathed, my chest constricting with panic.

“I keep it…” Gen whispered, looking down like a beaten dog. Her hands wrung at each other, and I felt terrible to reacting the way I had.

“That’s astounding. To be able to take on life like that and keep it and not be affected… I can’t believe it,” I marveled. She let out a breath, a smile appearing on her face.

“Thanks. Don’t tell anyone else though… they don’t know everything that I can do… I don’t want them to not come to me in fear of hurting me. It doesn’t hurt… not for very long at the least. Only a couple seconds or so... I want to help them. Please don’t say anything,” Gen rambled, worry lacing every word. I nodded once and grasped her hand in both of mine. 

“I can keep a secret, don’t worry. Besides, I’ll be coming back for a better session next time. I haven’t experienced calm like that in years. It was lovely,” I comforted, standing. Although it seemed like a few minutes had gone by that we talked, it had been an hour and a half. “I’m hungry. Want to go get some food?”

Gen shook her head and laughed. “No, I’m okay. I’ve got my secret stash of goodies behind my desk,” she said with a wink and smiled. I grinned and walked out of the hall, listening to the light taps that her shoes made against the tile floor.

I emerged from the stairs, taking note of the stars outside. It was nearly ten at night now, and I slowly made my way to the kitchen. A majority of the kids were asleep, save for this one boy with glasses who kept blinking and changing the television channel. I felt like a Coke.


	2. Chapter 2

The kitchen was a spacious area with a breakfast bar that created a peninsula of sorts. I was a bit disappointed to find that it wasn’t empty, as two figures were sitting at the bar, their backs to me. I took a deep breath and continued on anyway. Sitting at the bar was a boy and a girl, her hair streaked with white. Nothing seemed too special about him, except maybe the unsettling icy bright blue to his eyes. They were both eating cereal in silence, the kind of intimacy that was accomplished by just being in the others presence. 

“I’m Alice… nice to meet you,” I introduced, hoping not to be a weirdo snooping around their kitchen. The boy set his spoon in his bowl and reached out his hand.

“Bobby, nice to meet you,” he grinned, and I grabbed his hand to shake it. The girl sitting next to him quickly smacked him in the arm, to which he simply shook my hand. I raised an eyebrow, curious as to why she hit him.

“I’m Rogue. I’d be totally cool with shaking your hand and everything… I just can’t,” the girl stated, a friendly frown on her face. 

I shrugged. “Fair enough. Where's a Coke in this place?” I asked, glancing around the kitchen. Bobby nodded his head toward a cabinet. 

“In there.”

I opened the cabinet and admired the sight of a box of Coke’s. I grabbed one and popped it open, hardly realizing it was lukewarm. Just before I took a swig, Logan strode in, his hair wilder than ever. 

“Looks like no one's sleeping tonight,” he groaned, grabbing a Coke after me. As he went to open it he paused, holding it out to Bobby. I watched intrigued as Bobby reached his hand out and chilled the drink. Logan opened it, apparently satisfied and took a sip. 

Bobby kept his hand reached out, turning to me. I glanced down at my drink with a small grin on my face. Looking back up to the boy, I winked. 

“I’m good.”

My drink chilled just as quickly as Logan’s had, except Bobby’s hand was nowhere near my Coke. The two teens let out breaths of impressment, and Logan raised an eyebrow. 

“Thought you said your powers were similar to mine? What was that?” He questioned, and I rolled my eyes at him before taking a swig of my own drink. 

“They are similar… and they aren't, and I think we should leave it at that,” I finalized, bidding a goodnight nod to each of them before making my way out of the kitchen and to my room. 

The curtains were still drawn open wide and I strode over to close them. Night time was always such a weird time for me. It was either nightmares or not sleeping at all, but I wondered if what Gen did earlier could help. Why not give it a shot? 

I threw myself backwards onto the comfy bed behind me. Scooting my way up to the pillow, I kicked off my shoes. No blanket covered me as I watched the wings to the ceiling fan turn and turn and turn in a hypnotic and calm rhythm. Putting my hands behind my head, I forced a yawn, hoping it would trigger my brain into a sleepy mode. 

Crickets could be heard chirping outside and I listened as the door to the room next to me closed. Heightened hearing in a bustling city would cause me to go insane, but out on the countryside like this, it was magical. I slowly slipped into sleep, doing nothing that could wake myself. It had been weeks since my last decent sleep that wasn't in the backseat of my car. 

I slept like the dead. Well… probably better than the dead, at least I could wake up and appreciate the rest. My dreams were non existent, but I was confused by what exactly woke me up. It was four in the morning, everyone in the house still asleep. Maybe it was just that my mind had its fill and wanted to get up? 

I sat up in bed, deciding to take a shower and change out of my clothes. Opening the door in the corner of my room, I found a set Jack and Jill sinks, complete with two different showers. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad it wasn't a rerun of the year I decided to try out modern college dorms. 

The water was hot against my skin, and I stared at the grime that washed down the drain. I'd gotten into a fight on the way over here yesterday, but didn't think I'd gotten  _ that _ dirty. Standing under the stream of water felt amazing, and I thought about how everything could change. There were so many opportunities here. 

Twisting the knob, I shut off the water, wringing out my hair. Reaching for the towel I'd placed on the hook outside my shower, I heard the click of a door opening. Heart racing, I pulled my hand back into the shower, praying that I wasn't heard. 

_ Please just do what you need to and let me get back to my room, _ I thought, a shiver running through my body. Shuffling feet, a medicine cabinet opening and closing, whoosh of shaving cream leaving the can.

_ Shaving cream leaving the can? _

I covered my mouth with my hand, suddenly very aware of my lack of clothes. Hair stuck to my cheeks, the walls of the shower quickly losing heat. I listened as there was a few deep breaths here and there, the light clanking of metal on a chain, the scrape of a razor against hair. I held my breath, forcing myself to rid itself of noise.

Everything was loud. The water dripping off of the trendils of my hair, the tap of the razor against the sink, the water running from the faucet in the sink. The seconds felt like hours and I cursed myself for not appreciating the power of a teleporter when I met him.  _ Really doesn’t sound that bad now does it? _ I rolled my eyes, crouching low to the floor. 

A groan was heard as the medicine cabinet was reopened. What were they doing this time? I shook, unsure of what to do next. Maybe I should grab a towel. That might be smart. I began to edge the side of the shower curtain open, my hand shaking and searching for the towel. Green… it was green. Tile, tile, tile, softness. 

I yanked the towel through the hole I had made between the shower curtain and wall. Except it wasn’t my towel. It was my oversized t-shirt that I was wanting to lounge in today.  _ Close enough to a towel _ , I thought. I silently pulled it over my head, uncomfortable from the way it stuck to my body, but thankful everything was covered. 

_ Might as well head out now. _

I let out a small cough, hoping it would alert whoever was outside that I was here. All I heard was the gushing of water out of the sink. In the process of standing, I slipped, my feet flying out from under me due to the wet tile beneath me. My face hit the tile wall in front of me, blood instantly gushing out of my nose. 

“Who’s there?” A gruff voice exclaimed and my mind panicked. Oh god it’s him. I picked myself up as quickly as I could, but the shower curtain was already being ripped open. A hand shoved my shoulder into the wall behind me, pinning me to it. Sparks exploded in my vision, the pain in my head intensifying. Blood covered my face, my eyes burning. The sound of metal unsheathing forced me to open my eyes, everything having an odd shade of red to it. 

His claws were at my throat, his other arm keeping me in place. It was a good thing too, I would have probably just slid to the ground. I could feel the blood stop, the headache ebbing away. Logan held me in place, every muscle in his body tense. Dog tags hung from his neck, familiar as the day I first saw them. All he wore was a pair of sweatpants, and I hung my head. 

“Can’t even take a shower around here in peace,” I mumbled, watching as the blades retreated into his skin.

“Sorry. I forgot you were probably going to be in here…” Logan muttered, letting his hand fall. I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. I was completely healed, save for my dignity. He turned around and walked away from me, shaking his head. I stumbled out of the shower with a distinct lack of grace and reached for my shorts. 

“Are you okay?” Logan suddenly turned and faced me again. I froze, clutching my shorts to my chest, cool air hitting my bare legs. He reached out a hand and touched my face, my nose, a gentleness there that wasn’t seconds before. I stared past his hand and inspected his features, searching for any difference at all. Logan pulled his hand back, our gazes locked. There was small bit of curiosity flickering behind his eyes, mixing with the exhaustion of being a mutant. 

“I told you. Similar powers,” I joked, tapping my nose. I knew there was no way it was broken… it was simply not possible. 

Logan nodded, cleaning up his sink space. “Yeah,” he scoffed. “What a curse.” 

I frowned, seeing a different Logan than I was used to.

“What in the hell is wrong with you, you sourpuss? Grumpy doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I blurted, care throwing itself out a window. Logan looked up and stared me down through the mirror.

“Look kid--”

“I’m no kid.”

“--Alice… you don’t get it. There’s everything wrong with me. Knives in my arms, hell, I’m not normal, why should I act it. Shit I’ve had to deal with… well yeah. I’m going to be ‘grumpy’. Just teach the kids history and move on. You’re just some pretty school teacher that’s different from the normal ones. That doesn’t mean you understand  _ anything _ I’ve had to deal with.”

Logan finished clearing his space and went to his room, the door locking behind him. I scoffed, angrily putting on my shorts. Fuck taking a lounge day. I needed to blow off steam. Stomping to my room, I threw on a different shirt and a pair of yoga pants. Hair pulled up in a ponytail, running shoes on my feet… nothing could stop me. 

I ran down the hallway, going wherever my feet took me. The air outside was dry and cool, the sun barely peeking out over the hills. I took off, music pulsing in my ears. 

The rhythm wasn't hard to find, each step matching the beat. No matter how hard I tried to clear my mind, this morning's incident resurfaced. 

“I don't get it? I don't GET IT?” I screamed, my feet hitting the pavement harder. I headed into the forest, hoping the mix between hike and run kept me busy. 

“I get  _ everything _ , James. Every decade, every year, every day, I get it. You're not the only one with knives in your arms, you're not the only one with metal bones, you're not the only one with  _ problems _ .”

Pavement made way for grass, trees hanging high above my head. I ran faster, trying to outrun my memories. They surfaced anyway. 

_ Water stinging my eyes, pain beyond anything I had ever experienced. Stryker looking at me from above what I had thought was my watery grave. A new weight to my body, a strength that wasn't there before.  _

_ Victor.  _

_ Victor wrestling me into a cell, my mind drugged. I remembered the screams of others, of my own voice cracking out of betrayal and sadness. Claws digging into my arms, Victors hands wrapped around my biceps.  _

_ “Just get in-- just get your ass in there!” He barked, hatred and jealousy lacing every syllable. The ice cold concrete beneath my wet and weak body. Every heartbeat sending waves of pain through my veins. Sadness intertwining my blood. _

Pound, pound, pound, my feet hit the earth with force, my breathing hitching. Run, run faster, faster. 

“You don't know half of what I do,  _ Logan _ . You don't remember any of it, you don't remember what you  _ had _ ,” I whispered, my breath short but strong. Anger boiled my blood, my heartbeat pulsing faster and faster. “YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE.”

I launched myself off of a fallen tree, capturing an ability that I didn't often use. My strides lengthened, twenty feet passing under each step. The rushing of the river next to me matched my rage. I ran, enjoying every aching muscle that screamed for me to stop. A pain that I could control, that I could stop when I wanted. 

Greens, browns, blues, the sun rising higher in the sky. The colors blurred together. A gleam of metal. Metal. Out in the forest like this? I slowed to a stop, careful to avoid making noise. 

I wasn't wrong. Four yards in front of me was a cage, no doors along any side, hardly any space to see inside. I walked over to it lightly, controlling my breath to a steady rhythm. Twigs cracked, resounding throughout the forest. I glanced down at my feet, confused as I had stopped walking. 

There was more than the cage here. Someone more than the cage. I crouched, peeking around from behind the bush I’d hidden behind. Out from behind the case walked a man wearing a grey suit, completely wrong attire for a forest. In his hand was a large drill, screws in a bag next to him. What was he doing?

I crept closer, hands guiding me. The man stopped at the corner of the massive metal container, adding screws along the edge, the hum of the drill disturbing the otherwise silence. I tilted my head, squinting to see better into the cage. 

It didn’t look like anything was in it  _ yet _ , but I saw that it didn’t have a true bottom. I edged closer, pulling my hood up. Bless green sweatshirts, am I right? The man looked to the sky somewhat worriedly and he continued to screw together the box, a new urgency in his actions. I didn’t feel very good about him, especially since I hadn’t met him yesterday. What was he trying to capture so close to the school?

Twisting my hand, I let a whip unravel from my wrist, it’s ending wrapping tightly around my forearm. It was easily one of my favorite editions, a power I had picked up the summer of 1915. The wind shifted, now blowing behind me and I cursed the weather. 

I stared as the man stiffened, his head cocked ever so slightly. His eyes flashed this way and that and I bounced lightly on the balls of my feet, getting ready to move. The man faced my direction, dropping the tools. 

He knew I was here… knew exactly where I was. He walked my way, the wind around me becoming stronger and stronger. What in the hell was going on with this weather?

I stood, my whip carefully placed behind my leg. “What’s that you got there?” I called, faking a friendly conversation. The man furrowed his eyebrows and raised his arms. I frowned, adjusting  my stance.

“Nothing that concerns you, and nothing you need to worry about,” he said, his voice growing to a yell by the time he was done talking. The weight of my body lessened, my hair flying around haphazardly. There was no use to adjusting the way I was standing as I floated into the air. I wildly looked around, confused as to what was going on. The man jerked his arms to the left and my body followed suit, flying into a tree and twirling before I landed harshly on the ground.

Oh.

_ That’s _ what was going on.

I shoved a knuckle into the soft earth, pushing myself up. Blood ran down my forehead but not for very long. 

“Well… as little as I’ve actually been here… I think I should worry about it. You know… incase I come across it on my next run,” I taunted, a sly grin forming on my face. The man tilted his head left and right, the sound of popping joints resounding. “I think you really should put it up.”

I took off sprinting towards him, my whip curled in my hands. One, two, three. I launched off of a large rock, soaring above the man's head, the wind he caused only catching my toes.

“Oh Wendy,” I teased. “You’re going to have try harder than that.” I landed, pivoting on one foot and snapping my whip out in front of me, catching him around the neck. I yanked back, his body folding back with a wave, his suit scraping the ground.

I pranced around him, dodging gusts and bursts of wind, snapping his arms and legs with my whip. I wasn’t truly sure what to do with him, if killing him was the way to go or if I was just suppose to scare him off. My wandering mind didn’t help the situation as I went flying up and out of the forest, landing on my back and sliding along the dirt. 

The man flew after me, a hard shot of wind pushing me farther and farther back with every jerk of his hands. I clawed at the ground, furiously shuffling through whatever power would help me at that exact moment. Lightbulb. Fall of 1963.

The ground felt like a magnet, my body heavy as lead. Try picking me up now, you bastard. I ran at him, the panic growing on his face as he found that the wind could no longer pick me up. Tackling him, we tumbled back into the forest, my fist connecting with his face. Pinning him to the ground, I punched him repeatedly, trying to knock him unconscious. 

Pain blossomed from my right side and my vision blurred. The man grinned weakly at me, blood staining his teeth. He held his hand up, the crimson knife in his hand. I glanced down at my jacket, the dark liquid seeping out from the hole he had made. 

I reverted back to Logan’s ability and struggled with the man to avoid the knife he was wildly flailing around. I jumped off of him, the blades in my forearms unsheathing, the pain in my side leaving. 

“Ah, he would like someone like you,” the man commented, clapping his hands. The air wrapped itself around me and I began to once again fly backwards, but this time I was ready. I dug my claws into the tree nearest me, struggling against the wind. 

January of 1922. The blades retracted into my hand, becoming almost non existent. Spikes of ice left my fingertips, splicing through the powerful weather. 

“I don’t want to meet him,” I finalized. The blades of ice pierced his chest in three different areas as I flew backwards, branches from the trees scratching my cheeks and tangling my hair. I slid to the earth as the bark scraped my stomach underneath my jacket. 

The dead man’s body was battered, his suit close to shredded. The ice melted, leaving three holes in his body, one of which coming from his lungs. I crouched down near him and searched his pockets, looking for anything that could help me determine who the hell he was. A small wad of cash, a piece of gum, and a cell phone that had been crushed. I sighed, tossing the phone over my shoulder.

“Maybe we should have introduced ourselves,” I muttered. Taking his hand in mine, I shook it. “Name’s Alice. Nice to meet you Wendy.”

I stood, inspecting myself for any other injuries. My hair was plastered to my forehead, my favorite sweatshirt ruined. Groaning, I trotted back to the school, wondering if Gen was awake yet. Hell, it was seven in the morning, she should be up. 

My shoes went from grass to pavement, a clean transition that I cherished. I jogged back down the drive to the school, noticing a group of figures standing on the stone porch. I slowed my pace, unsure of what was going on.

Storm ran down the steps of the school, worry lining her face.

“What happened? Where were you?” She breathlessly asked, grabbing my arms and scanning my body.

I shrugged my shoulders. “Went for a run. Found a cage and guy… things got a little gusty. Where’s the professor?”

Storm shook her head, her hand touching the bloody hole in my jacket. 

“Did you get hurt?”

“Yes, but I’m okay.” 

Behind Storm I noticed Jean and Scott hustling down the stairs, and by the looks of it, they were still in their pajamas.

“We saw part of the forest freak out, even a person fly out from under the trees a couple of times. What was going on?” Jean asked, slowing to a halt in front of me. Scott stopped beside her, a different pair of glasses on. 

“I want to explain myself once. Where’s Charles?” I asked, looking down at my hands. 

“I’m right here.” Charles's deep voice was heard behind Storm and all of us turned around to face him. “And I fear that Jean has been correct. Something isn’t right… come. We will discuss it.”

He spun around in the wheelchair and made his way back up the ramp next to the stairs, many of the children standing behind the railing, desperately trying to hear what was going on. Jean and Storm gently grasped either arm and we walked hurriedly behind Charles. Who knew a man in a wheelchair could be so fast? 

“Children… ummm… Today is an off day. Go ahead and play, classes are canceled, no one goes in the woods,” Storm directed, looking at the group of kids who started hollering cheers. After a few seconds agreement Storm shook her head. “Anyone who goes into the forest will be hit by lightning… do not test my accuracy.”

The hollering died out.


	3. Chapter 3

The four of us jogged through the house, heading down into the basement. I caught a glimpse of Gen, who came running up the steps from her infirmary. Jean branched off for a half second and whispered in her ear. Gen nodded and waved bye at Jean, beginning to head outside with the children. We crowded the elevator, the metallic smell of blood surrounding us.

“You’re sure you’re not hurt?” Scott asked from his corner of the elevator, his head tilted. It was the first time I had heard him talk since I had arrived, and I unzipped my jacket.

“I swear I’m fine.” I wiggled out of my ruined sweatshirt, my normal shirt clinging to my body. The doors of the elevator opened into a hallway that would make me think we were on the other side of the world. Polished metal with automatic doors lined either sides of the hallway. Fluorescent lights glowed in the ceiling, the open room in front of me lined with black uniforms.

Jean, Scott, and Storm pushed past me, heading to the end of the hall. I followed, gaping around me. Who knew something as cool as this was underneath a  _ school _ ? The other three entered a room extremely similar to Charles’s office on the main floor, although this one seemed much more important. Behind the desk sat Charles, Logan standing next to a bookshelf chewing on an unlit cigar. 

I glanced at him, my gaze immediately hitting the floor. This morning was just too embarrassing to look at him right. Jean sat on the chair in front of the professor's desk, Storm occupying the one next to her.

“He’s up to something,” she said, staring at Charles. He nodded solemnly, turning his attention to me. 

“Alice, what did you see in the forest? Who was there?” He asked, leaning forward, encouraging me to talk. I opened my mouth, about to describe the cage that I’d found.

“Why don’t you just read her? Wouldn’t that be faster?” Scott commented hurriedly, an interesting new development that had happened in the last couple of minutes. 

Charles shook his head, a small smile on his face. “It’s not polite. And she knows when I do it… could even stop me if she wished.”

Storm and Jean turned around to face me, confusion on their faces. 

“But Professor… she’s like Logan…? Not telepathic?” Storm said slowly, her eyes wide. I bobbed my head around, somewhat shrugging.

“Why Storm, she can be anything she wishes,” Charles answered, a brightness in his eyes. I squinted one of my eyes, turning my head to the side. 

“Well not exactly, but yeah… that’s close enough,” I mentioned. “Anyway, I went for a run this morning… because… I like running.”

My eyes flashed to Logan who rolled his eyes and looked away from me, adjusting the cigar in his mouth. 

“And there was this cage of sorts, you know, size of a small house-ish somewhat size, and this guy in a suit, grey suit, I’m talking complete with the dress shoes and everything.” Charles cleared his throat and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, shoes and everything, and he was building this cage in the middle of the forest, although it wasn’t the middle of the forest more like the side, but it was so odd that he was building this thing where he was. Oh, and it didn’t have a door. No bottom either… just… like placing a cup over a spider to catch it. He could make the wind do what he wanted, kinda like Storm but lamer.

“He started fighting me, trying to make sure I didn’t tell anyone about what he was doing. Towards the end he made this comment that ‘he’ would really like to have someone like me, but there was no way in hell that I was about to go with anyone like him. What weirdo builds a cage in the middle of the forest, I mean am I right?” I rambled, my voice rising in pitch. I was never any good at delivering messages, only carrying out orders. The others stared at me, a peculiar concern growing amongst them. “Oh, and I killed him.”

Charles sent me a pleased smile, turning his attention to the entire group. “Magneto is up to something, and I fear this has to do with it. That sounds like Riptide, although I haven’t seen him in years.”

“Is Magneto ‘he’?” I jumped in, trying to gather as much information as I could. 

“I believe so Alice,” Charles responded. “Jean has been having premonitions, and the concern has been growing. What happened in the forest just now sounds like it’s part of it.”

“Professor, that cage sounded like it was at the end of the tunnel from the school,” Storm worried, running a hand through her hair. 

“Yes it did.”

The door behind us burst open, Bobby panting in the doorway. 

“Help-- it’s-- it’s Willow-- she’s-- just help,” Bobby gasped, doubled over.

“Where?” Jean asked, she and Storm jumping up from their seats.

“Edge-- of the-- the forest.”

The adults took off from the room, Charles quickly behind them. I sprinted after. The school was empty, the entirety of the school body outside gathered around the edge of the forest. Screaming was heard from the middle of the crowded group and Storm broke through the mass.

In the middle was a little girl, no older than eight, her hair floating in the air, almost as if she were underwater. Her foot was trapped in a metal claw, no different than a bear trap. Gen was knelt next to her, murmuring words of peace and comfort but with no success. The fear was evident on her face that she couldn’t help as long as the little girl was ensnared. 

“Willow, you’ll be okay, this will all be okay,” she repeated, holding the girl’s head in her hands, petting down her ever floating hair.

Storm crouched next to them, barking out orders for the kids to get back. Willow continued to scream, her leg looking paler and paler by the minute. I frowned, watching how the shades in her leg got lighter.

“Something’s not right,” I mumbled. Scott knelt beside Gen and carefully wrapped his hands around the claws of the trap. 

“Ow,” he murmured, yanking his hands back. The girl screamed, her other leg kicking this way and that. She looked like a ghost, so much blood had left her system.

_ Blood _ .

I glared at the trap, finally seeing what was different about it. Dozens of tiny needles were driven deep into Willows skin, sucking the blood from her small body. 

“Scott… that needs to get off of her, and fast,” I urged, nodding in the direction of the trap. He shook his head up and down, hand reaching for the side of his glasses. I was curious to know what he could do… if it would be a good addition to my collection.

“Gen, Storm, go and cover her eyes. I don’t want her to knew when… she might move,” Scott instructed, leaning closer to the trap. The two women followed, Storm holding a hand over Willows tearful eyes, Gen whispering words of comfort in her ear. 

Scott took his glasses off, his hand resting ever so lightly on the metal. His eyes were still firmly closed, and I watched as he seemed to line himself up with his arm. With a bright flash of red light, Scott opened and closed his eyes, no longer than a blink, the metal of the trap popping and snapping off of the girls leg.

Yeah, I’ll pass on that ability.

Adjusting his glasses back in place, Scott stood, holding a hand out to the little girl to help her up. Gen and Storm helped lift the whimpering child, gently resting her in Scott’s arms as they all went back to the school. The children followed, wanting nothing to do with the forest at the moment, only wanting to know how Willow would be. 

I looked around me, everyone heading back inside. Crouching near the smoldering bear trap I inspected it this way and that, running my finger along the edge of it. There were eleven needles left that hadn’t been destroyed and blood ran from the trap itself. Lifting the piece of machinery, I glanced at it from different angles, trying to find where the blood was coming from. 

A button, flush with the slick metal, depressed into the contraption as I gripped it tighter. Six vials of crimson blood appeared beneath a panel, two of them shattered. I tilted my head, severely confused by the use of  _ vials _ in a trap like this. 

Unscrewing the remaining four, and leaving the trap nailed to the ground where it was, I sprinted back to the school, vials in hand. All the students were sitting in the main room, whether it was on the floor or on chairs and tables. They exchanged murmurs and whispers of fear, some hugging the littler ones. Bobby and Rogue stood in a corner, their bodies close but not touching. They glanced at me for half a second before continuing their conversation. 

I strode towards the closed door leading to the infirmary, sure that that’s where the others were. I jogged down the steps, careful not to drop any of the blood filled vials. Scanning the room, I walked over to where the others were crowded around one of the beds, Gen setting on the edge of it. 

I briefly noticed Logan sitting on Gen’s desk, a teenage girl spinning around in the office chair. She wore a bright blue windbreaker, yellow and red stripes along the front. I stopped momentarily, amazed at the fact that there was a child critically hurt, and it seemed this girl could care less. I shook my head, throwing the thought from mind. 

Charles backed away from the chair, allowing the now sleeping Willow to get some rest. Jean and Scott and Storm followed, worry and concern lacing their faces. Or at least with Scott, his jaw. 

“I fear that Magneto is targeting the children, but for what reason, I do not know,” Charles began, shaking his head. Jean rolled her head to the side, a sigh escaping her lips.

“All I’ve been dreaming of is drowning. It’s nothing but water and pain, and I don’t know what that has to do with today’s events,” Jean explained, looking at the others for feedback. I stood behind the circle, looking around for a table of some sort. I found a small nightstand at the edge of one of the beds, and walked over to it.  

“Guys,” I called, jerking my head towards the nightstand. “Look.”

I let the vials spill from my arms, and as much as I wasn’t trying to be elaborate with them, one speedily rolled off the small table and shattered against the tile floor. I frantically grasped for the others, each vial rolling in a different direction, trying not the slip on the blood beneath me.

“Well, I mean… uhhh… there were already two other shattered ones… I think we’ll…” I looked to the side to see the patient face of Charles, a kind pity in his eyes. “I think I’ll just stop talking now.”

Everyone was staring, even Logan and the girl who stopped spinning in her chair. I stood up straight, patting down my sweatpants in an attempt to compose myself. 

“I found those.”

Charles and the others walked forward, Jean and Storm each grabbing a vial. Gen stood up from the edge of Willow’s bed and walked carefully around the blood, grabbing the last vial. I shrugged, unsure about what I should do next. I didn’t know this Magneto guy, I didn’t know much more about the school than what I had already been told. 

“This is Willow’s blood,” Gen whispered, her blue eyes darkening. She clutched the vial and turned to Charles, an odd calm anger in her demeanor. “Whoever did this needs to be stopped. Some of the other children could get hurt… we can’t have that.”

“She’s right, we can’t. This is suppose to be a safe place for mutants Charles,” Storm chimed in, stepping forward. “If they get hurt here, there's no other place for them to go.”

“I know full well about that Storm. Jean, could you look at these vials closer? Try and figure out why Magneto would want them,” Charles finalized. Giving a nod to Gen, he disappeared behind a door I hadn't noticed was there. Jean left with two of the vials, Scott and Storm following close behind. 

I stood turning to Gen who went to a closet and grabbed a small IV bag. It was a light shade of pink, different from the normal clear I’d seen before. She took out a needle, pricking Willows tiny arm with it. Soon the IV was set up, and Willow was sleeping peacefully on the bed. 

Gen faced me and let out a breath. “She’ll be okay. Nothing I can't handle.” Logan stood up from the desk behind Gen, the girl standing as well. She wore an adorable little black and grey plaid skirt that didn't match her jacket in the slightest. 

Logan nodded to Gen and stared at me weirdly, as if all this bad luck had just tracked me here. He walked out of the infirmary, the girl skipping closely behind him. 

I picked up the last vial, glaring at the shattered glass beneath my feet. Gen walked over with a damp mop and a broom. I grabbed the broom, sweeping up the shards of glass, the pain from the cuts in my feet disappearing as quickly as it came. Gen smiled and mopped up the blood after me. 

“So that's what Logan can do. Do you two feel physical pain? Or is it just ‘there’?” Gen asked, her eyes like a child in a candy store. I frowned, leaning on the broom, the vial in my other hand. 

“You're telling me you didn't know what Logan could do?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Well I kinda do, I know he has claws and heals on his own, just never really watched it. He never comes in here, never asks for help. I don't know what's going on in that angry head of his, just know whatever Charles tells me,” Gen trailed off, taking the mop and broom away. I shrugged. It was a believable answer. Logan liked keeping to himself for the most part. 

“We feel pain, every little bit of it. Our bodies heal themselves extremely quickly… well… let's just say it hurts when our claws come out, but adrenaline keeps us going,” I explained, rolling the vial in my hands. I thought about the look Logan gave me, the blame that he shoved on me. Everything was going fine here until I showed up, bad luck following me like the plague. “I might as well have a tracker on my back.”

“What?” Genevieve asked, confusion on her face. I shook my head and dropped my hands to my side.

“I feel like I have a tracker on my… wait… tracker… TRACKER,” I yelled, causing Willow to mumble in her sleep before turning over and passing out again. I covered my mouth, embarrassed that I had yelled. 

“I don’t understand..?” Gen began, shaking her head slowly. I bounced on the balls of my feet excitedly. 

“July of 1965,” I grinned, stroking the vial of blood. Suddenly instead of merely holding a vial of blood I envisioned a map lining my mind, the blood from the vial seeping through the lines that were roads and highways. The liquid pooled around a small town in Colorado… the closest I could get with as weak of the power I had.

“I’m so confused,” Gen exasperated, twirling on one heel and sitting behind her desk. I bounced excitedly, finally glad I was able to contribute something that wasn’t complete shit.

“I file my abilities under the time in which I got them… some I never remember what they do, but that’s one of my perks… I have hyperthymesia… I can remember  _ when _ I got them.” I smiled widely, waving a goodbye to Gen who shook her head, a laugh upon her lips. Sprinting up the stairs I found that the kids had dispersed to their rooms, others playing in the living room. I stepped into the elevator, the vial still in my white knuckled hands. Hurrying to the office that we were in earlier, I burst in.

No one. 

I spun on my foot, walking briskly down the hall, sure that they were all down here somewhere. As I walked past the room full of suits and techy things, I caught a glimpse of Logan and Storm grabbing suits from their containers. I stopped, creeping closer to the open door.

“I’m telling you, this has got something to do with her,” I heard Logan say. Storm sighed, tossing her shoes to the side. 

“No it doesn’t, so you quit blaming the poor girl. She’s been through so much this morning already.”

Logan scoffed. “One fight and dropping a glass full of blood on the floor. What a terrible morning.”

My hand hovered over the door, my body shaking. The words left his mouth nonchalantly but they may as well have been hits with a baseball bat. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure of my confidence in anything… much less helping them. 

“Alice, I’m glad you’re down here.” Charles’s voice snapped me out of my revere, my body jumping. The voices inside the room stopped and I quickly snatched the vial out of the air that had left my hand.

“Uh… well… you are?” I stammered, taking a step away from the door. Behind Charles stood Jean and Scott, both serious as hell.

“Yes. I want you to join Storm, Scott, and Logan as they go and try to figure out what Magneto is up to. Jean and I will stay back to make sure nothing else happens to the children. Inside this room you’ll find a suit. Hank made them to fit to their wearer. Go and change… hurry,” Charles urged. I rested my hand on the door, Scott giving Jean a kiss before pushing past me to go inside. 

“Professor,” I whispered, allowing the door to close between us and the others. Jean bid me good luck and headed back to her lab to understand the vial better. Charles nodded and gave me an encouraging smile. “I thought I knew what I was doing… but I don’t know what this guy is capable of… and where he is… well…”

I exhaled, allowing my chin to hit my chest, my eyes closed. Again the feeling came, and I knew Charles was listening to everything I couldn’t say. 

“My dear child,” Charles comforted. “You’re extraordinary. I understand you don’t fit in just yet, and that this is painful to you, one way or another. Go. Help them and prove Logan wrong. You know he is, so let him see that. He’ll warm up to you again, I know it. You’re the key to everything he needs, everything he’s been wanting.”

I shook my head, fighting back tears. I knew where we were going, and I knew that Charles was wrong. I handed him the vial, refusing to open my eyes. Twisting the ring on my finger I struggled to swallow.

“This place though.”

“I know what it means to you. What it should mean to him,” Charles began. I shook my head even harder.

“--And that’s exactly why Logan’s right.”

I spun around and thrust the door open, storming into the room. I forcefully grabbed a suit, rushing into one of the smaller rooms to change. I quickly rid myself of my bloody shirt and sweatpants, pulling on the dark blue suit. I stared at my now battered tennis shoes, groaning. 

I exited the small room and walked back into the other room with the others. Scanning the area, I found a cabinet full of boots and I carefully grabbed some in my size, thrusting them on. Storm and Scott stood near a wall, muttering amongst each other. Logan exited one of the other smaller rooms, finishing the rest of his buckle, a cigar in his mouth. He glanced up at me and I grit my teeth, forcing a tactic of intimidation, although I knew he was far too unimpressed to fear me. 

“Where’s Jean?” He asked, directing the question at no particular person. Scott paused his conversation with Storm long enough to respond.

“She’s staying here. Alice is coming instead.” Logan flashed me a look and I bit my cheek. 

“Why not Jean?” He pressed, his eyes never leaving mine. 

Scott leaned back, a groan leaving his lips. “Look asshole, she’s safer here, and Charles told us to bring Alice instead, if you have a problem with that, you can go and take it up with him.” 

“If--” Logan began and I took a step forward.

“If you don’t shut your damned mouth I going to sew it shut, and I promise you it won’t be pleasant,” I growled, hating the way he was blaming and  _ hating _ me for so much. Logan’s eyebrows raised in small surprise, the other two gaping at me. 

Scott was the first to recover. “I like her.”

Storm sighed and opened another door that none of us had touched yet. “Guys why don’t we take this hostility and target it at Magneto. Let’s go.”

We all walked out into a massive room, a hanger of sorts, with a jet in the middle of it. I let out a low breath, amazed that something so huge could be just chilling out underneath the school like this.

_ Underneath the school _ .

I stopped in the middle of the room as the others boarded the aircraft. My eyes flashed here and there, my mind running a mile a minute. There were no other tunnels leading out, not a single window to see the world above. Unless we were going to break the ceiling, I hadn’t the slightest clue on how we were going to get out. 

“Alice, come on!” Storm called out from the stairs. I jogged forward and jumped up the stairs. Inside the ship I watched as Storm took pilot's seat and Scott took copilot. Logan was strapped into one of the seats along the wall and couldn’t be bothered. 

I took one of the seats across from him, clasping the metal buckle in front of me. We stared at each other for a small moment before he turned his attention back to his cigar. I looked to my right, watching as Storm and Scott flipped switches here, pushed buttons there. It was intriguing, watching them work with something so complex. 

Engines fired up, loud and deafening. I tried to tune it out, relax, breathe. Flying had never come easy to me, my body favoring the nice, solid, permanent thing that was Earth. A thunderous noise was heard above our heads and I ducked. Logan let out a low scoff and rolled his eyes. 

The ceiling of the hanger was opening, the bright sun shining through.  _ The basketball courts _ , I marveled. The jet lifted and I gripped the underseat of my chair religiously. My stomach lurched and I shut my eyes, praying that if I didn’t look, I wouldn’t worry. 

I shuffled through my various powers, starting from the beginning, making sure I knew what I could rely on. We flew for a couple hours, each of us sitting in silence. I wondered about who this Magneto guy was and why we could be in Colorado. 

“Uh… Storm?” I asked, refusing to open my eyes.

“Yes?” She responded, not a lick of discomfort in her voice.

“This Magneto dude… what can he do?” I inquired.

“Magneto is a powerful mutant that can control metal. He creates magnetic fields that forces metal to do his bidding. Powerful man,” Storm answered, turning her attention back to flying the jet. My eyes flew open, my heart momentarily stopping.

“M-metal?” I choked. Logan opened a single eye, having been lounging in a light sleep. He watched me intensely, his eyes indifferent. I groaned and threw my head back against the seat. “Fucking metal… of all things.”

“We’re about to land. Get ready to go guys, and remember, we aren’t actually fighting… not yet at the least. We need to know what Magneto is doing,” Storm instructed, bringing the jet to a gentle landing in the valley of two mountains.

I unclasped my harness and rushed down the stairs, falling to my knees once hitting the wild field in front of me. My entire body shook, both out of shock from the flight as well as the new information that I had absorbed. 

_ What was Charles thinking _ ?

Storm patted me on the back, nudging me back up to my feet. The jet was indivisible, reflecting its surroundings to disguise itself. 

“Hey, you going to be okay?” She asked, a miniscule amount of concern in her tone. I nodded, rising to my feet. I spun around slowly, looking at the mountains surrounding us. Everything was so familiar.

Scott and Logan began walking along the mountain, the proposed place where Magneto was hiding out on the other side. I followed behind, Storm at the back. The air was dry and the sky was clear, not a single cloud in the sky. Deer ran in the trees near us, birds flying overhead. 

It wasn’t long before we reached the top of the mountain, each of us crouching to avoid being seen. Below us was a river, flowing peacefully, a farm laid out beyond it. A two story farmhouse, cows grazing in the pasture next to it, a barn in the middle of it all, it’s paint chipping. Multiple cars were in the drive and I felt a strange dominance over the area. 

“Let’s go,” Logan mumbled, making his way down the mountain carefully, the rest of us following behind. As we went, I noticed more and more things were returning to my memory. The fence that refused to tighten, the small pile of rocks where I buried a family of dead bunnies. 

And Logan didn’t recognize a single bit of it. 

“I wouldn’t step there,” I piped up, nodding to the space in front of Logan’s foot. “The grass is covering a gopher hole… breaks horse's ankles all the time.”

Logan stared at me for a moment, deciding whether or not he was going to believe me. I glared at him, willing him to listen. Without breaking our gaze, he set his foot a few inches to the right, missing the hole. I let out a breath, glad he listened to me at least once. We reached the river and I jogged ahead to the front of the group.

“Don’t let it fool you… tread lightly on the rocks… if you don’t your foot might get stuck and the force of the river will drag you under the water. Drowning would be a sad way to go out here,” I recited, the memories of years before invading my mind. 

“How do you know so much about this place?” Scott asked. I shook my head, pushing back the tears that had been building up. 

“I used to… I used to live on land like this. I’m just assuming it’s the same.”

_ The day was warm, the water cool. I splashed at Logan, his chest bare. I smiled, Logan pushing water back at me.  _

_ “You know I’ll win,” he joked, wading in the water towards me, closing the distance between us. I floated backwards, splashing at him and laughing, the sun shining down on us.  _

_ “Not if you can’t catch me!” I screamed, dunking beneath the water. I opened my eyes in the water, ignoring the light stinging they held. I saw the distorted form of Logan’s midriff making it’s way towards me.  _

_ Leaping up from beneath the water, I grinned, Logan’s eyes bright as he gently grabbed my arm, just enough force behind it from letting me escape.  _

_ “Got you,” he claimed, wrapping his strong arms around my wet shoulders, my shirt sticking to my skin. He breathed into my neck, a low laugh coming from deep in his throat. We were both breathing heavy, my back to him. I rested my hands on his forearm, tracing lightly where his veins were.  _

_ He planted a kiss on my shoulder, the two of us standing in the river together, a perfect day of many. _

I stared at the water, my foot so close to touching, a single tear rolling down my cheek. I could see us standing there, sixty-three years ago, each of us living a thousand lifetimes since then. 

I needed to compose myself if I wanted to succeed. I couldn’t be thinking about anything else. I was there to help the others, to fight well if needed. I hardened my emotions and stepped into the chilly water, ignoring anything more the others had to say. We waded across the water, Logan cursing under his breath. 

Soon we were jogging around the barn, heading to the farmhouse that was far too familiar. Storm grabbed the back of Scott’s suit, pulling him behind the barn with us. There were two men standing at the entrance to the farmhouse, hands in their pockets. I thought about the barn, and how we used to have horses that never wanted to go inside. 

“The farmhouse is too hard to get into…” I mumbled, crouching lower to the ground. “But we need to get inside the barn. See the way the vehicles are parked? They're all facing the barn, not the house. Besides that, the guards are out in the open for the house, but the barn is untouched. It's a front.”

Scott’s eyebrows furrowed and I could tell he was seriously questioning what kind of person I was. Storm gently rested her hand on my shoulder, trust flickering in her eyes. 

“You’re sure?”

“I'm positive. I also know how to get into the barn… unseen that is,” I bobbed my head from side to side, adrenaline beginning to take its course through my veins. “There’s a reason Charles wanted me along… you don't want to know it.”

I spun on the ball of my foot, the dirt groaning beneath me. Logan and I were eye level, our faces inches apart and I let out a low breath.

“Move over,” I ordered, eyeing the paneling of the barn next to him. He stared at me, a challenge gleaming in his eyes. We continued to stare, neither wanting to back down. 

“How do you know so much about this place,” Logan asked, his voice a growl. “First everything bad starts happening at the school, and now you know everything about what's going--”

“Sounds fishy I know,” I cut off, reaching a hand towards his shoulder. I could see the slight rocking in his stance and I knew he was off balance. “But you know what? I'm your best shot right now.”

I flicked my wrist, my hand momentarily touching his shoulder. It was just enough movement to tip him backwards, allowing me to get to the panel. 

“Ugh,” he glared, his eyes flashing with anger. I ignored him and waddled over to where he had been, searching for the familiar little notch. Rocky used to run out of the barn at night through this panel, forever wanting to play with the wolves outside. No matter how many times Logan and I had tried to fix it, Rocky made his way out again. 

“Gotcha,” I whispered, allowing a single claw to escape my hand. I wiggled it between the panel and the rest of the barn, a metallic click sounding quietly. Retracting the blade, I gently pulled on the panel, a square hole around three feet tall and wide appeared to us. 

“Come on,” I nudged, crawling into the space, immediately darting to the right, closest to the corner. Storm came next, her entrance much more graceful than mine, Scott and Logan just after. I peeked over the crates that we were hiding behind, only slightly aware of Scott putting the panel back in place. 

The barn was empty, save for three men sitting in the middle, a crate between them. Cards littered the top, beer bottles and guns haphazardly tossed around. One was a squirrelly looking dude, his hair long and oily, body thin as a twig. The other two men were monsters, their shoulders massive in size. I sighed, scanning the rest of the barn.

The inside had been deconstructed, none of the stalls existing. Only one large open space, a small ladder on the left leading to the loft. Hay was scattered around the floor, not a single animal to eat any of it, yet there was a spot thinner than the rest. 

“There,” I mouthed, pointing to the spot. Storm glanced over the boxes and nodded faintly. Her eyes flashed to the men and I brought my hand to my mouth. 

There was no way we were going to figure out what that patch was without being seen. But that didn't mean that we still couldn't look. 

“Don't get the clothes bloody,” I whispered, oblivious to the idea that I had taken charge. 

“Don't what?” Scott asked, his hand near his ear. 

“The clothes. We need them. Don't get them bloody.”

Scott nodded and peeked over the boxes, and with three flicks of his finger, the men’s heads were gone. 

“Clean shot,” I grinned, jumping up and sprinting towards the bodies, catching one before it fell of its stool. “They didn't even see it coming.”

Scott and Logan grabbed the other two, and I smiled. Storm jogged over to me, a cautious look on her face. 

“Are you--?” She began. I was jumping up and down, excitement and adrenaline keeping my body from flat out collapsing. 

“Psychotic? Insane? Dying? Take your pick,” I rambled, tearing the clothes off the body in my hands. I grabbed a cap lying nearby and handed it to Storm. “Tuck your hair into this.”

“What are we doing?” Scott asked, gaping at his person, the man almost twice his size. I groaned and rolled my eyes, my body following suit in a swaying motion. 

“We can’t just waltz in there can we? No, I think not. Throw these clothes on, don’t make eye contact, and just follow where I go. Don’t talk to anyone unless they begin talking to you first, and even then, just wait for me to deal with them,” I explained, continuing to undress my squirrel of a dude. 

“There’s three guys and four--” Logan questioned and I twirled to face him, my hair flying to land on my shoulder. 

“Just let me deal with the rest, and get those damn clothes on.”

The three changed rather quickly once they stopped asking questions and I snatched a pocket knife from one of the bodies. I tucked in into the side of my suit, along my thigh where it was easily within reach. 

“Good? Let’s go down there,” I finalized, rushing over to the thinner area of hay. Just as I had assumed, there was a small latch that opened into a set of stairs. Bright lights illuminated the hallway below us and I grinned. “Fuck yes.”

December of 1978. 

I glanced at my hands and saw only the hay beneath my body. Storm let out a small gasp, Logan’s eyes widening for a half second. Scott shifted uncomfortably in his overly large clothes, and hesitantly reached out to where I was crouching. I tracked his hand as his fingertips met my knee, his hand stopping.

“Like I said. I’ve got this,” I muttered, jumping down the hole. I landed on the floor, a slight pain shooting up my ankles. The hallway was empty and I stood off to the side, allowing the other three to come down the steps.

We hurried down the metal hallway, passing a door every few yards or so. I listened as we went past each door, some holding hushed conversations on the other side, some with silence behind their door. Continuing on, I sprinted to the intersection, looking to either side, the halls looking identical. I stared at the worn metal floors and noted the plethora of scuff marks that went to the left instead of the right. 

Left it was. I stood at the corner, waiting for the others to catch up. I gently nudged Storm’s jacket, quietly leading her to the left side of the intersection. Panic flashed over her features for a moment before they disappeared, replaced with determination and curiosity.

Just as we rounded the corner I quickly dodged a rather grisly looking man, his eyes stone. He stopped and glared at the others, his body easily taking up the width of the hallway. 

“What are you doing down here,” he growled, his voice thunderous in the otherwise silent hallway.

“We’re down here because the boss wanted us,” Logan gruffly mumbled, Scott looking to the floor, a hat pulled low over his eyes. 

“The boss don’t a want ya’ class two’s,” the man insulted, taking an intimidating step forward. I reached for the knife in my suit, and lightly pressed my hand to the small of his back. Strength… momentum… immovable… I grinned to myself. No turning to metal, no catching on fire. This guy’s power was just a really big powerlifter with the added bonus of a haywire gene. 

“We’ll… uh… you’ll have to talk to him about that. He wanted us,” Logan kept up with the facade, his hand edging behind his back. I leapt up onto the man’s back, one arm wrapping around his thick neck, the other hand driving the knife deep into the nape of his neck.

His scream lasted a second, a roar that echoed throughout the confined space. I rushed to cover his mouth, waiting until the light faded from his eyes. I jumped back off of the falling body, Storm and the other two already stepping over him. We ran down the corridor, rushing to find something, find anything. I ran behind the others, not wanting them to trip on me, my pace quick. 

Room 42. Something caught my attention about this particular room as I slowed to a halt, backing my way up to the room. Instead of being pristine white, this door was made of steel, a single window allowing someone to peek in. I padded closer, peering inside the window, a giant room revealing itself to me. 

I jiggled the doorknob ever so slightly, groaning when it was locked. I glared through the window and grinned. A man with a large pair of noise mufflers on his ears and clipboard in hand walked down the catwalk, his body relaxing as he let out a sigh. 

I jumped out of the way of the opening door, waiting until he had passed through to slip inside the massive room. Something about the air changed. It was salty, almost ocean like and I momentarily stopped. What in the hell, we were ten feet underground, why would it be  _ salty _ ?

Padding silently down the catwalk, a bridge of sorts that floated high above the floor, I took in the room around me. It was dark, only a few lights hanging from the ceiling. A incessant buzz sounded from them and I found myself thinking that if I had to be in here all the time, I’d go insane. Looking down between the cracks in the metal walk beneath me, my eyes struggled to pinpoint the true bottom of the floor.

I glanced in front of me and found that the catwalk widened to create a hovering platform, complete with a desk and multiple machines. Sitting behind the desk was another man, wearing the same headgear as the first, indifferent as he scribbled down information on a sheet of paper.  _ So that’s why they wear it _ , I thought.  _ I’d wear them too, with how loud those lights are _ . 

Files were scattered about the desk, some opened, some closed. I inched closer, careful not to make any sudden movements. A small desk light illuminated the sheet of paper the man was writing and I found myself unable to read a majority of it. An open manilla folder threatened to fall over the side and I turned my head, scanning the document for anything useful. 

A picture drew me to one particular file, a woman laying on a steel table, asleep. Her hair was spread out around her, but nothing was peaceful about it. The name below it read X-1, a list of information following. My hand reached for the paper to look at the pictures underneath, my arm freezing before it reached the desk. What was I thinking, I couldn’t move anything.

The buzzing of the lights suddenly faded in the back of my mind, another sound filling my ears. It was sweet, slow, methodic. Peace flooded my mind, different from Gen’s peace, this one full of promise. Of longing and nostalgia.

The singing floated up from below me, a golden sound that intertwined between my fingers and twirled me around. It was beautiful and elegant, and I gazed down, the bottom of the room now lit. The light was warm, transforming and swirling into a living room that I missed dearly.

Logan sat on the couch, Rocky lying contently next to him. I floated to the edge of the catwalk, the railing holding me away from my happiness. The sound curled around my arm, lightly leading me closer to Logan’s waiting arms. His smile was bright, the kind that made my heart flutter.  _ I need to get down there _ , I thought dazedly. 

A fog clouded my mind, leaving bliss in the place of my misery. I finessed my way over the railing, perching on the slight ledge, hands lazily keeping me from falling into Logan’s protective embrace. 

“Agh, shaddup!” The man’s voice was gravelly, scraping against the singing like nails on a chalkboard. I ignored it, wanting nothing more than to listen to it forever. “Now!”

The draining of water could be heard behind me, waves roaring to exit it’s confining space. It was useless, just an annoyance to the beauty that filled my mind. The singing cut off abruptly, replaced by panicked pleading and screaming. The fantasy in front of me vanished, revealing churning waves of water, dark and ominous. My grip tightened on the railing behind me, fear striking my body. 

“Please! Stop!” The scream tore through the noisy room, chilling my bones. “I’m so sorry, please, please, just stop!”

Her screams originated from the water, splashing following close after. The water level dropped, the salt scent finally making sense. The man grunted, a flip of a switch echoing throughout the chamber.

“Shut yer mouth,” he barked, the water level halting, the liquid settling into a calmer state. Sobs echoed all around and I clambered back over the railing, safely crouching on the catwalk. My breathing was labored and short, my heart racing. I cautiously peeked my head over the edge, trying to find the source of the sobs. 

The glimmer of the tail caught my eye first. It was five feet long, flowing gracefully beneath the water, causing ripples that ended at the concrete walls. It was a mermaid, her long blonde hair spreading around her convulsing body like a blanket. Her scales were the only source of color in the room, but even then, they were black and grey, shimmering like an ebony sports car under city lights. 

A siren.

My gut told me she didn’t want to be there either. The man groaned and slammed his pen down, abandoning his previous task.

“Night, bitch,” he yelled, stomping to the only door. I stared a bit longer at the crying figure and shook my head. I had to follow after him if I wanted to get out of the room, but I didn’t want to leave her here. I sprinted to the desk, relying on the loudness of her cries to hide the files as I grabbed a few, stuffing them under my suit. They disappeared, the man none the wiser. 

He was almost to the door. I ran, throwing caution out the window. The door opened, the lights in the room dying, the solitary sound turning into the weeping of the mermaid. I leapt, sliding through the open door, my head missing being crushed by inches. The man strode down the bright white hallways, going out the way we came in. I laid in the hallway, catching my breath, trying desperately to process everything I had seen. I didn’t get to lay down very long. 

“Where the fuck is she?” Logan’s breathless voice could be heard down the hall and I sat up. Footsteps were heavy as the trio rounded the corner, running back to the exit. I scrambled to stand up, silently cursing myself for getting so distracted. Storm’s hat was barely staying on, Scott’s completely gone. They ran, Logan’s claws out. 

“Doesn’t matter we need to get out of here,” Storm panted, and I started running in front of them. I had no idea if they had been found out, but I was in no mood to stick around and find out. Scott’s face was pale, a shake in his step. We ran, turning this way and that, Logan cursing me for abandoning them.

“I told you something was up with her,” he growled. “Jean should have come along instead.”

Scott furiously shook his head. “No! No, no, she stayed, as she should have.” There was a quiver in his voice and I became convinced he had seen something. We turned a corner, three burly men walking in our direction, no concern on their faces. So we hadn’t been found out… at least not yet.

I hurtled forward, knife in hand. Within three slashes the men had collapsed, each clutching their throats. I jumped over each of them, praying we didn’t come across any more.

“There she is,” Storm said, leaping over the bodies. We ran, reaching the ladder that lead to the barn. I clambered up, shoving the trapdoor open, knife raised above my head. There was still no one in the barn thankfully, only the headless bodies we had stuffed in the corner. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Storm whispered, the three racing to the panel that we had entered through. I went after, making sure no one was walking into the place. Once we were concealed behind the boxes, I stood, my eyes dashing between the barn door and the trapdoor. No one.

“You coming Alice?” I heard Scott’s voice whisper from outside the barn, the panel in his hands. I slipped out, tapping his shoulder once I was out. He nodded, returning the panel to its spot on the wall. We dashed around the barn, our bodies freezing upon the slamming of the farmhouse door. 

Two men exited, one much taller than the other. The sun was setting behind them, causing a shadow to cross their faces. I glanced at them, the knife tightening in my grip.  _ Just wait for them to leave, keep going _ .

“Damn house suppose to be mine,” one of the men grumbled and my blood ran cold.  _ No _ . “Fucker took it from me…”

I could feel my heart begin to palpitate, skipping a beat, adding too many after. My breath stopped in my mouth, the knife loosening and falling from my grasp. 

“Still ‘aven’t killed ‘im?” The other responded, pulling out a set of keys. The first figure stopped and glared at the other.

“If I could, I’ave,” he responded, every word throwing me farther and farther into the past. 

_ My wrists bled, the metal confining me to the bed. My stomach bruised and battered, Victor’s vindictive grin burning into my mind as he caressed my cheek with a single claw. _

_ “This will show them… this will show  _ him _.” _

I was losing control, my entire body shaking. I couldn’t hold on. My body appeared, my hair growing in length and changing color. Red, brown, blonde, back to brown. It flashed through all the personas I had worn through the years, my height and weight changing with every heartbeat. 

It was Victor, the one who had taken so much and left me with less than nothing. 

“Alice, are you okay?” Storm asked, resting a hand on my back. I might as well have been thrown into frozen water, my body close to convulsing. 

Victor and his goon got in their car and pulled out, driving down the drive and leaving. I looked at the ground, my eyesight blurred. The ground below me moved, nausea setting in. I really wasn’t okay, but it wasn’t anything I could explain to them. I swallowed, shaking my head. 

“Yeah,” I answered, my voice hoarse. “Let’s go.”

I ran across the field, taking no care to hide myself. I launched myself across the cold river, missing the water entirely, briefly accessing an ability from 1987. Nothing could stop me, I needed to get as far from that place as I could. As far away from Victor I could possibly get. 

It wasn’t long before I made it to the jet, and I held back tears. There I waited for the others to show up, all of them breathless.

“What was that back there? Who was that?” Logan demanded and I folded inwardly on myself. 

“That was nothing… and I have no doubt… no doubt at all that he’s much much worse than this Magneto guy,” I breathed, bounding up the stairs and securely strapping myself in the seat I had come in. Logan sat across from me, a different look on his face than before. I closed my eyes, listening as Storm and Scott started up the jet. Don’t think about it, don’t think about him,  _ don’t think _ .

“What happened back there?” Logan asked once we had fully taken off. I exhaled, resting in the darkness a few moments longer before opening my eyes. I could already tell that they were probably red, but I didn’t care. My mouth was in a thin line I stared him down, noticing the slight spray of blood on the collar of his suit. I tangled with myself, sadness wanting to spill it all, rage wanting to leave the past in the past. 

Instead, I partially unzipped my suit, pulling the Manilla folders from against my stomach, a slight sting as they stuck to the light sweat. The deadpan look on my face spoke volumes and Logan closed his gaping mouth. I tossed the files across the jet to him, my arm falling by my side. 

“I grabbed those. That's what happened,” I changed the subject, focusing more on the siren I had seen in the water. “I don't know how they got her, or what they did, but she's a mutant that they have locked up underneath there.”

“Storm this proves our thoughts,” Logan called, flipping through the papers. His eyebrows furrowed as he dug deeper into the files, the lines in his face growing. I stared at him, not truly observing him, but looking through him. Coming to the school was suppose to let me relax, move on with my life. The exact opposite was happening. 

I was being dragged, kicking and screaming right back to Three Mile Island. Back to misery. 

I sighed, scooting lower into my seat, imagining the roar of the engines was just a movie blaring in the background. Closing my eyes, I pushed all thoughts away, allowing myself to settle into the welcoming darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

“Alice… Alice, come on, let's go inside.” Storm nudged lightly at my shoulder, a gentle expression on her face. I clicked out of the harness, moving like a sloth, standing up. I was crashing, my entire body protesting from my continuous strain. It had been a while since I had switched between so many abilities, the energy sucked right out of me. 

Storm wrapped an arm around my waist, taking my arm and draping it over her shoulders. Together we hobbled down the steps, making our way back to the room full of suits. I blurrily made out Jean who was standing in the corner, shuffling through the files I had grabbed. I sat on one of the benches, caring less about who was around. I was too tired to walk into one of the rooms, my mind feeling like it was drugged. 

The first time I experienced the limit of my original ability, it felt like I’d managed to hit four hangovers in one night, the sun too bright, my vision blurred. I'd trained myself to be able to avoid the hangover, practiced being able to switch with no consequences. Looks like I was a little rusty. 

I lazily watched as Scott walked out of one of the rooms, his face still pale. He'd exchanged the straight lens for a pair of sunglasses again. He looked up from his hands, and spotted Jean, relief flooding his face. My eyebrow twitched, curious as to why he previously looked so worried. 

“Jean,” he breathed, capturing her in an embrace. His body shook, but he wasn't crying. Jean cautiously hugged him back, patting his back awkwardly. 

“You okay?” She asked, trying to face him. Scott nodded slightly, his figure seeming to relax. 

“Down there… I looked in a window and inside the room I saw you. You were… you were…” he choked, shaking his head. “You were beaten to death. I told myself it wasn't real… and it wasn't… but it _looked_ _so_ _real_.”

Jean pushed Scott back an arm's length, her hands resting on his shoulders. A soft smile played on her lips, her eyes bright. 

“I'm not going anywhere Scott.”

He nodded, taking her by the hand. The two walked out, Jean saying something about taking the files to Charles. Storm walked out of her own changing room, Logan soon exiting his. I sat on the bench, frozen almost, my body grabbing onto any open moment to rest. Storm strode over to me, her hair fluttering lightly. 

“Will you be alright? I know first time missions can be a bit daunting… I’m sure Gen can help you.”

I microscopically shook my head, looking at my feet. “No… it's fine. I'll go and see Gen tomorrow. I'm too tired tonight.”

Storm nodded and walked away, leaving just Logan and I in the room. I unintentionally glared at him, my breaths rare. His eyes didn't leave mine, a new reserved respect in them. 

“Kid--” he began.

“I am more certainly no kid,” I growled, a wave of nausea hitting me. 

“You look twenty--”

“I look sick.”

Logan closed his mouth, his leather jacket hugging his shoulders. I began to shake, a chill overtaking my body. 

“Don't think,” I mumbled under my breath, trying to push Victor out of my head. I stood cautiously, my balance wavering. My steps were small and sluggish as I made my way out of the room, to the elevator. Inside I stood, waiting to go up when Logan got inside the lift as well. 

Our eyes didn't meet, not a word was said between us. The doors opened and I shuffled into the hall, ever so slowly making my way to my room. Logan walked next to me, his hands in his pockets. The school was quiet, all of the children in their rooms. Moonlight shined through the windows, and I grasped the railing of the staircase.

Each step knocked the air out of my lungs, and I took a rest between them. Logan stood on the stair step just beneath me, his figure still a couple inches taller than mine. It was an odd system we had, my mind too exhausted to question why he stayed with me. We reached the top of the stairs and I momentarily lost my balance and began falling backwards. Logan rested a single hand on the middle of my shoulder blades, gently pushing me forward. 

Maybe I wasn’t as alright as I had let on to Storm.

Finally I reached my door, my hand somewhat dropping onto the doorknob. Twisting it, I fell into my room, hardly noticing that Logan had disappeared into his own room. I kicked the door shut, my body sprawled out on the cool floor. I let out a forceful breath, rolling to my bed. I dragged the quilt from atop my bed and wrapped myself in it, separating myself from the floor. Screw a pillow, it was too far away.

I settled into my cocoon of growing warmth and sighed, passing out. 

_ “He didn’t need you anymore…” Victor’s voice echoed in my mind, the fake comfort causing shivers to run up my spine.  _

_ “No… that’s not true… he said he was going to come back…” My voice quivered, my hand clutching my ring. Victor shook his head, resting a paw of a hand on my shoulder. I shied away from his grasp, tears forming in my eyes. _

_ “Something in him broke. After Stryker’s group… well Lissie… he took off. Found himself a girl, thought you wouldn’t wait for him. I found him up in the woods, chopping wood, living life,” Victor’s words were a poison that infected my blood, spreading throughout my body, convincing me of a lie. _

_ I shook my head, my bobbed hair stinging my eyes. Tears streamed down my face, dripping onto my hands.  _

_ “I came back to you Lissie. I told you… we’ll be together forever,” Victor took a step closer to me, reaching out his other arm to wrap me in a hug. Trembling, I stood there frozen as he embraced me. “Come… I have a place for us to go… you won’t have to be reminded of this place any longer.” _

_ I took a step back, breaking from his grasp. “No. I won’t leave here. If he… if he doesn’t want to come back… I’m not leaving. I’ve left so many other places, I’m not running from here.” My voice grew stronger as I talked, and Victor’s face contorted slightly. He was becoming impatient, his foot tapping.  _

_ “Just come with me… I’ll make you happy. You know that,” he plead, advancing closer to me, one hand reaching into his pocket. _

_ “Logan made me happy,” I spat, turning my back on Victor, pain seeping into my heart. There was no way… no way it could be the truth. _

_ “Now he’s making someone else happy.” A piece of paper fluttered to the ground in front of me and I focused on it’s print. It was a photograph, the picture candid. It was Logan, a woman under his arm. They were kissing, a small cabin behind them.  _

_ It was if I had been hit by a baseball bat, the air knocked from my lungs. I fell to my knees, skinning them, the pain nothing compared to what I felt inside.  _

_ “Agh!” I screamed, tears flowing profusely down my face. My head throbbed as I curled forward, my forehead on the gravelly ground. I wrapped my arms around myself in an attempt to physically hold myself together, my hair sticking to the trails that my tears left. The air was crushed from my body, my breaths weak and short. _

_ “Come on,” Victor picked me up off the ground, my body too weak to fight him. I was too weak for anything. He set me in the car, tossing the photograph on the dash, reminding me of what had left. We drove away, the farmhouse shrinking away in the side mirror, dust kicking up behind us.  _

_ “I have a place we can go…” _

I woke up in a cold sweat, the quilt around me drenched. My stomach lurched this way and that and the clock on the nightstand above me read three in the morning. I felt the bile rising in my throat, burning my insides. I needed to threw up, but I wasn’t about to have to clean it up. Tears formed and flowed down my cheeks, mingling with the sweat. 

I crawled to the bathroom, hauling myself up over the toilet, my body shaking profusely. I threw up, my mind running far far away from what would be coming next. I was never given a choice like Logan was… the metal in my body, the unfathomable pain I’d endured, it wasn’t by choice. 

I continued to dry heave, nothing left in my stomach. Shaking, I stood, getting rid of the vomit and shuffling my way over to the sink. I attempted to rinse my face, my nose and throat on fire. My legs wobbled beneath me, too much trauma in such little time. I’d been going like a train since I’d gotten here, no true chance to slow down.

Soon enough, my legs gave out from underneath me, my jaw connecting with the counter top. It felt like my head was splitting open, the pain overwhelming. Blood momentarily ran down my chin, stopping almost as quickly as it had started. Darkness bayed at the edge of my vision, the ceiling warping and shifting. 

Light cracked just slightly into the bathroom and Logan’s hazy face could be seen above me. His mouth was pressed into a thin line, his hair having no particular direction. He wore a loose t-shirt and sweatpants, his dog tags swinging against his chest.

“C’mon,” he grunted quietly, picking me up off the ground. I was weightless, my hair soaked from sweat. My head was limp over his arm, nausea kicking in harder seeing everything upside down. Logan turned around, walking sideways through his door. I took in his room, much neater than I would have expected. It almost looked like no one stayed there, save for the bed and it’s messy sheets. 

Logan adjusted his arm, giving my neck some much needed support, my face now buried in the crook of his arm. Down the hall he took me, careful with every step he took, the motion smooth. I drifted in and out, Logan saying nothing. 

I barely processed the fact that he took me down to Gen’s infirmary, little Willow still sleeping soundly in her bed. Logan gently laid me on a different bed and I rolled onto my side, Gen’s desk barely in view. She was sleep, her head on the wooden table, her blonde hair spread around her. There was a pen in her hand, still poised from where she was writing. 

Logan paced over to her, plucking the pen out of her hand. He tapped her shoulder with it lightly, nudging her awake.

“Genny,” he mumbled. Poke. “Genny.” Poke.

Genevieve came to life, throwing herself back in her chair, and the change in Logan’s posture told me he thought she was going to flip over backwards. 

“Yes?” She said, her eyes blinking extremely slowly. Her hair stuck up in corners, a small amount of droll causing some to stick to the corner of her mouth. Logan tilted his back at my direction, shrugging slightly.

“She’s causing such a ruckus I couldn’t sleep,” he joked… or at least I thought he was joking. Gen looked past him and noticed me laying there, feeling half dead. 

“Oh.” Her voice was small as she stood up, racing over to me. “Alice… darling… oh dear.”

“I figured you’d do her a bit of good,” Logan walked back over to me, the slightest hint of concern in his eyes. 

“I’m surprised you think that, you never visit with me,” Gen teased, sitting on the open space next my side.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just make sure to fix her up. Thanks, Gen.” Logan turned and walked back up the stairs, not sparing another look back. 

The paralysing panic slowly subsided at Gen’s tender touch as she stroked my hair out of my face. 

“Hey… hey there…” She murmured, a kind and sweet smile adorning her face. A dangerous sense of calm overtook my stressed state as Gen steered me into something I had almost forgotten about. 

“Let’s see what this will do,” Gen smiled, pulling a blanket over my body. I allowed my eyes to shut, a momentary darkness appearing. “This looks happy enough.”

Gen’s voice melted away as I slipped farther into the fantasy she was creating. Except it wasn’t created, it was being pulled from my life.

_ I sat on a diner stool, a bottle of Coca Cola in front of me. The diner hummed with life, soldiers all enjoying the city life. A Vietnamese woman with a friendly smile walked over, an American waitress uniform on. _

_ “You wan…?” She asked, no harsh consonants in her accent. I nodded to the menu beneath my arms. _

_ “Number 3 please,” I stated, meeting her eyes. She smiled wider, her eyes squinted. I could barely see the brown behind her eyelashes, her black hair in a twist. _

_ “Okay, okay. You so hansome,” she complimented, twirling around and yelling orders in vietnamese to the cook. He hollered back something unintelligible, and she turned back around to face me, the smile remaining. “Soon, soon.” _

_ I nodded once, my hair short. It barely touched my ears, a bit longer on the top. A military haircut that hadn’t seen a trim in a while. I glanced down at my uniform, imagining my body underneath. It wasn’t curved, nor healthy looking. I’d lost so much weight, building up muscle where I needed it.  _

_ “Alec!” A rough voice called out from behind me, a hand slapping my back. I turned, to face them, a guy not much taller than me, his hair short and straight. Although he was shorter than most other soldiers around here, he had a fight in him that allowed him to take down giants. _

_ “Rush,” I grinned, careful to keep my voice an octave lower than my normal. It’d been two years, not too much of a problem now, but if I didn’t focus on it, I’d revert back to my old ways. _

_ “What you getting this time. Been awhile since we’ve been back in Saigon ain’t it?” Rush said, sitting next to me.  _

_ “Burger… god, all I want is a burger you asshole,” I joked, taking a sip of the cool Coke in front of me. It was hard for others to recognize that I was a woman, my cheeks hollow, my jaw sharp. Besides, any run ins I may have had, I’d used that blue bitch’s power to literally give me a dick, maybe even ditch the boobs. 1972, the year I gained the ability to look like anything I wanted.  _

_ The waitress came back over, asking Rush what he wanted.  _

_ “Same as him.” The woman nodded, barking a few more orders, popping open a beer and sliding it to Rush before disappearing again.  _

_ “God, I love this city,” Rush commented before taking a swig of his beer.  _

_ “You only love it because it’s better than the fucking jungle back in Russell,” I said, staring into the kitchen.  _

_ “Lost my boot to that damn swamp, you're damn right I like this better.” We both chuckled, settling into our normal silence, our bodies still alert as much as we seemed relaxed.  _

_ I hung my head forward, my eyes trailing to the dog tags that hung around my neck. They were different, one reading Alec Chamberlain; the other, Elliot Rush.  _

_ Rush and I had met in basic training, he and I excelling to the top of our battalion, as much as we looked like the runt’s of the litter. He had no idea of who I was, of what I was. And he didn't need to know.  _

_ The waitress brought out our burgers, greasy as hair that hadn't been washed in weeks, but hell if they weren't delicious. Rush devoured his food in three minutes flat, my food disappearing soon after. We’d learned to eat quickly, no trust between anyone but ourselves.  _

_ “Private Chamberlain!”  _

_ My name rang out through the diner, the bustling of others coming to a quiet. I sighed, turning my head to look at who had called me.  _

_ It was Corporal Chadwick, a man that towered over anyone he stood next to, a mean glint in his eyes. He’d given me hell ever since I’d shown up, forever trying to turn me into his personal punching bag. _

_ “It’s Private First Class, sir,” I said nonchalantly, casting a glance at Rush who rolled his eyes.  _

_ “Not my problem. Follow me,” Chadwick ordered, stepping out of the doorway. He was unusually tall, unable to fit into any small aircraft or tanks.  _

_ I sighed, hopping off of the stool, leaving a few bills on the counter. Rush cracked his knuckles but stayed seated, his back to the corporal. _

_ “I'll give you three minutes to have fun with him. Then I'm joining in,” Rush murmured under his breath, his head down. I said nothing, striding out the door, my head barely reaching Chadwick's shoulder. _

_ It was humid outside, the sweat already perspiring on my brow. I strode to the side of the diner, away from the streets full of people. Once it was just us, I turned around, my hands in my pockets. Indifference kept me alive, insouciance kept me sane.  _

_ Chadwick charged towards me, his hand curling into a fist. _

_ First hit. Have to give him first hit. Always. _

_ His knuckles connected with my jaw, throwing me backwards onto my back. Don’t heal, don’t heal, it’s just a little bit of blood. The taste of iron invaded my mouth, metallic and unnerving.  _

_ “Someone told me you were screwing off with my girl at the house… everyone knows she’s only mine,” Chadwick spat, a malicious anger in his voice. I groaned, rolling over onto my stomach, pushing myself up off the ground. What a fucking load of bullshit... _

_ “Sorry you’re not good enough… must be the only time she actually finishes,” I laughed, spinning around to face him, my hands in front of my face. Now we could really start. _

_ “You motherfucker,” Chadwick snarled, taking another step forward to hit me. I sidestepped, easily dodging his swing. I hit his shoulder with my elbow, the man landing face first in the dirt behind me. _

_ “Aw, I thought you had me this time? Aren’t you what? An entire foot taller than me? Some sort of growth defect, right? Hit me again asshole. I’ll give you five bucks if you can land another punch,” I taunted,  adrenaline rushing through my veins. I bounced around, keeping my body light. Chadwick growled and jumped up, turning around and taking another swing. I hopped out of the way, a malevolent grin on my face.  _

_ “Fucker,” Chadwick panted. I raised my eyebrow, shifting my weight from foot to foot, a rhythm in my step. Hands grabbed at my arms, pinning me to the chest’s behind me. What the hell? I twisted my head this way and that, noticing the two men behind me, holding me in place. _

_ “Ah, playing dirty now are we?” I bluffed, spitting the pooled up blood out of my mouth. Chadwick glared at me, his eyes almost turning black. I rolled my eyes and threw my head back, bracing myself for the first hit. _

_ Pain blossomed in my stomach, my ribs screaming in protest. Chadwick pulled another fist back, this time landing it closer to my hip. He continued to pommel me, and I secretly allowed my bruising skin to heal, just enough to keep me conscious.  _

_ “Chadwick,” I heard the ever familiar voice behind me as Rush walked around the corner of the diner. “Seem’s a bit unfair don’t it?” _

_ “You talking to me about fair?” Chadwick barked, momentarily stopping his assault. My vision was clearer than ever and I slowly brought my knee up. Hmm… just one step closer.  _

_ “Well, I mean you do have two dumbasses holding Chamberlain in place… not fast enough to catch him yourself?” Rush grinned, sprinting forward and tackling one of the men behind me. I stumbled forward, driving up my knee into Chadwick’s crotch with all my might. _

_ “Try pleasing her with it now,” I snarled, climbing almost up Chadwick’s side, wrapping an arm around his neck and leaning back. We both fell, him on top of me, but I swiftly moved out from underneath him, my fist connecting with his nose. I glanced at Rush who was in a straight up fist fight with the other punk, Rush’s smaller frame allowing him to weave around the giant with ease, landing punches and jabs here and there. His feet barely touched the ground, both of our fighting styles extremely different from the rest. _

_ Maybe that’s how we got along so well. _

_ I backed away from Chadwick, waiting to see if he was stupid enough to get back up. Yes… yes he was.  _

_ “You two are like cockroaches,” Chadwick choked, wobbly standing to his feet. I leapt backwards over the first soldier Rush had tackled who was passed out cold on the ground.  _

_ “That’s not very nice,” I said, backing away. Chadwick inched towards me, shuffling like a zombie. I grinned, ready to fight. Chadwick snarled, his teeth bloody. He raised his arms, one protecting his face, the other ready to strike. _

_ “But… it looks like I can’t stop you anyway.” I sprinted at him, launching myself over the unconscious man, my leg wrapping around Chadwick’s neck. I threw my body into a backflip, Chadwick’s body lurching in motion with it. I stood, dusting the dirt off of my hands as Rush landed a final blow to his guy’s nose, a defining crack filling the air. _

_ I winced mockingly, glancing at Chadwick who laid there coughing and trying to catch his breath. Rush walked over to me, a wide grin on his face, a little bit of blood running from his temple. I smiled, blood staining my teeth. He gave me a fist bump and stood next to me, both of us panting. _

_ “Next time I’m giving you two minutes. You almost got all of the fun,” Rush joked, dirt smeared all over his forearms and knuckles. _

_ “By all means, help yourself,” I responded, staring at Chadwick. I smirked, waving my hand as I turned around to walk away. _

_ “Same time next week?” I called out, an indignant groan coming from Chadwick. “Sound’s great.” _

_ Rush and I left, casually walking down the busy street, little marketside shops set up every five feet or so. My eyes flashed up to the high roofs, keeping watch for planes of any sort. Rush began telling some story about how he and his brother had played hide and seek, both thinking it was a good idea to hide in the sappy oak tree. All in all, they had to shave their heads, sap having gotten stuck in their hair. I nodded absently, hardly ever telling stories, but I enjoyed listening to Rush’s. _

_ A whore from the brothel we were walking by grabbed Rush’s arm, leaning forward and smiling seductively. I grinned, watching as Rush’s eyes widened for a half second before he leaned in close to the scantily clad woman. _

_ “Sorry sweetheart, I’ve got a girl back home. Can’t be disappointing her now, could I?” He murmured, his mouth inches away from her ear. She shivered, the smile on her face growing. The woman moved closer, her hand in his, her breasts pressing into his arm. Rush gently pushed her away with his other hand, an apologetic smile on his face.  _

_ “Go find another poor soul darlin’,” he encouraged, unclasping his hand from hers, never breaking stride. After a moment’s pout, the woman continued on her hunt. _

_ “You know you’ve got no girl back home,” I said, a deep laugh escaping my lips. Rush grinned and shrugged, his hand’s now deep in his pockets. _

_ “Shaddup,” Rush threw his head back, staring straight into the blazing sun above us. His eyes reflected the light, turning them from plain brown into straight axinite. I admired him for a half second before rolling my eyes.  _

_ I’d romantically fallen for him around a year earlier, the feeling quickly abolished as I observed he didn’t quite swing that way. As much as he played it off, Rush avoided girl’s and anything having to do with a vagina like the plague, claiming it was all because he had a girl that’d he’d promised to come home to. _

_ I knew it was a load of bullshit, but Rush had my back, and I had his. _

Artificial light flooded the white room, my eyes opening slowly. I felt more happy and content than I had in awhile as I sat up and took a deep breath. The air was crisp and fresh, my mind clear. The bed Willow had been sleeping in was empty, Gen’s desk abandoned. I yawned, stretching my back. That was the best sleep I’d gotten in years.

War was hell for others, a nightmare that taunted them every night. For me on the other hand, it was an escape. An excuse to let off steam, living under the lie that it was for the better. Lie or not, war was bliss in my mind.


	5. Chapter 5

I swung my feet off the bed, my toes bare. I was curious as to where Gen was, it seemed like she was in the infirmary all the time. I hopped up the steps, a renewed strength and ease in my gait. Children ran around, some carrying books, others with bags strapped to their backs. They were all smiling, the previous day’s incident forgotten. 

I walked to Charles’s office, glad to find it otherwise empty save for the old man in his wheelchair. 

“Professor,” I said, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

“Alice. How did you sleep? Good, I hope,” Charles greeted, warm sunlight pouring through his open windows, a fresh breeze causing my hair to softly float around my shoulders. 

“Great, I slept great. Gen is wonderful at what she does,” I sighed, glad she had pulled the memory that she had. It had been a year or so since I had last seen Rush, who was living happily with a family in the countryside. “By the way, where is she?”

Charles smiled, pointing to the manilla folders on his desk, the same ones I had grabbed the day before. “Magneto is creating a serum that turns humans into mutants. Looks like he hasn’t been one hundred percent successful in his findings but it’s a danger nonetheless. We need a bit of help if we wish to stop him, and so I sent out Gen to grab an old friend of Logan’s.”

I tilted my head, surprised to hear that Logan had friends, much less old ones. “So why send Gen? Why not just have Logan get him?” I asked.

“Because some need a bit more convincing than others. Trust me, it won’t be much of a problem for Genevieve. If it was, I wouldn’t have sent her,” Charles explained, his eyes crinkling in the corners. I nodded, trusting his judgement. He hadn’t been wrong yet, what would change now? 

“That’s cool,” I said, bobbing my head up and down. “When should she be back?”

“Couple days time.”

I smiled, standing from my seat. “Okay, sweet.”

I stood, not too sure what to do with myself. “Charles… thank you. Thank you for the room, and for the chance to regain what was taken from me.”

Charles nodded his head once, leaning forward in his chair. “It’s all you dear. The most I probably did was keep Logan here.”

“And how did you do that?” I laughed, tugging at the edge of my shirt.

“Told him that I could help him remember his past… and here you are.”

My eyebrow twitched and I let out a laugh, nothing stopping my perpetually happy mood. It was almost as if Gen had taken everything bad from my life and thrown it out the window. It was freeing. 

“Yeah well, I’ll let him suffer for a bit longer. Wouldn’t want him taking off sooner than we need him.”

Charles laughed this time, heartfelt and genuine. “I’m not sure what Gen showed you, but it sure put you in a good mood.”

“She showed me exactly what I needed,” I winked, bidding Charles a farewell. I waltzed out of his office and into the kitchen. Bobby stood behind the counter, making a sandwich. 

“Hi Ms. Chamberlain,” he greeted and I momentarily stopped, totally forgetting that I was going to be a teacher in few days here. 

“Didn’t notice how long my name was until you say it like that. Let’s just go with Alice until I’m actually teaching,” I grinned, grabbing a Coke out of the cabinet. Bobby let out a laugh and continued to make his sandwich.

“Why do you drink so much Coke? Logan can’t go three hours without a beer… quite frankly none of the adults around here can’t go long without alcohol,” Bobby asked, slathering mayo on the slices of bread in front of him. I laughed, popping open the bottle.

“I’m not overly fond of the sensation it gives me,” I responded. In truth, I didn’t like adding to the feeling I got after switching too much. Seemed a bit counterproductive to purposefully throw myself into it. “That, and Coke just tastes so much better.”

I was also alive when Coke was invented, and let me tell you, it was loads better than warm tea. 

“I’ll see you later,” I told Bobby, walking back out of the kitchen, searching for something to do. Gen’s memory grab put me in a mood to fight… not quite life or death fight, but just enough to get the adrenaline pumping. 

I bounced down the hall, glancing out the windows at the bright outside that was today. I looked briefly at my clothes and realized I was still more or less wearing the suit from yesterday. Should probably change that. I dashed up to my room, passing by kids who marveled at my attire, obviously proud of the school that they attended. Switching from suit to a pair of loose sweatpants and a tight fitting t-shirt, I left my fairly messy room and set on my search for a fighting partner. 

Outside was thrilling, the bright sunlight invigorating. It wasn’t the same sun as in Vietnam. That sun wanted to burn you to a crisp and disintegrate what was left. This sun wasn’t the same. It wrapped you with tendrils of warmth and lightly kissed your skin. I jogged around the school, waving at Scott and Jean who were practicing with a bunch of discs. Looked like Jean used telekinesis to move them and Scott destroyed them. 

Telekinesis. Not bad honestly. I’d picked up that ability a few decades ago, not acting on it much, rather preferring hand to hand combat. Ah, yes, that’s what I wanted. I shed a miniscule shred of regret for leaving the last year of cage fighting to come here, but like I told Charles, I wanted to slow down for a bit.

But that didn’t stop me from wanting a fight. I ran to the open field behind the school, most of the kid’s inside their classes. Logan was sitting on a bench, beer bottle in one hand, a cigar in the other. I raised my eyebrows, the cigar’s being a new obsession. 

“What a great example you’re setting for the kids,” I remarked, glancing sideways at Logan. He scanned my face, his eyes jumping around ever so slightly. 

“Their choice to follow,” he brushed off, taking a swig of his beer. I frowned for a half second, not wanting a skewed fight. I snatched the bottle out of his hand, swinging it between my fingers. Logan grumbled in protest, leaning forward. 

“What are you doing out here anyway?” I asked, taking a step back, tossing the bottle off to the side. Logan groaned, rolling his eyes. 

“I  _ was _ looking for more traps like the one Willow got caught in. Found nothing.” Logan stood, dusting off his jeans. I bounced on the balls of my feet, perpetually on an adrenaline high. 

“So you’re not busy… you used to cage fight right?”

“I liked you better when you were quiet,” Logan griped, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. 

“Just answer the question,” I replied, shaking my body out, adrenaline pumping profusely through my veins.

“No.”

“Yes you did why are you lying?”

Logan groaned and glared at me, the gears in his head working. I raised an eyebrow and stopped my bouncing, planting my feet. I raised my hands in front of my face, a grin adorning my mouth. 

“What do you want?” Logan exasperated, taking the cigar out of his mouth. 

“A fight.”

“A wha-- why?”

“Just because. I figured you’d like it too. I think you would,” I contemplated, my eyes never leaving his. 

“No-”

I threw a punch straight to his face, pulling my arm back as fast as I had let it fly. Logan froze for a half second, registering what I’d just done.

“You little--

“Come on, fight me. You can’t kill me and you know it. So let's go. Let off a bit of steam.

Logan mirrored my posture, towering over me just like Chadwick used to do, except I don't think Logan hated me as much.

“Fine.

We both danced around each other, allowing Logan a chance to warm up. I smiled, thinking about what limits I would give myself. Logan made the first  _ actual _ move, striking out with his left hand.

I dodged quickly, his knuckles brushing against my hair that I’d forgotten to tie down. Oh well, he wasn't a girl. Females always grabbed for the hair, ripping chunks out if they had the chance. I defended with a definite punch to his stomach, not surprised when I was met with pure muscle.

Logan’s eyes followed me with a new concern, concentration lacing his features. He lunged a half a step forward, judging my reaction. I merely bounced around him, deciding to try and knee him instead.

He swung out again, this time with his right hand and I dropped underneath him, driving my right knee into his sternum, hoping to at least get a grunt. Satisfaction was a momentary feeling as Logan grabbed the back of my thigh with one hand, driving his elbow into my side with the other, spinning and throwing me a few feet away.

“Ouch, good one,” I gasped, scrambling to my feet. It felt good to be hit, the bruise already forming against my ribs. I sprinted at Logan, taking a higher leap each step. I watched his knees bend slightly, and I could tell he was ready to flip me the moment I launched myself onto him. 

Too bad. I dropped to the dirt, sliding between his legs, quickly slicing at his leg with my claws. A roar escaped his lips and he twisted around, his own claws making an appearance. 

“That’s off limits,” he growled, restoring his original posture. I stood, a wolfish grin on my face. 

“You know I can take it. You know you can take whatever I dish out. Why make it off limits?” I shrugged, lunging forward to catch his arm, but Logan began attacking with a renewed strength. 

We sparred back and forth, cuts and bruises fading just as quickly as they formed, words seldom exchanged except to egg the other on. Minutes passed and I fought, watching as the scowl that normally resigned on Logan's face was turning into a smirk.

Our movements became quicker and rougher, caution throwing itself to the wind. Soon our mere punches and scratching turned into safe stabs, our bodies healing quick enough to still fight. 

I jumped around to avoid Logan’s swinging arm, leaping backwards to unknown land. The back of my foot caught a rock, throwing me off balance, my arms dropping. 

Pain shot through my chest, blood rushing up my throat. I struggled to breathe fully, the feeling gone quickly. I stared at Logan, his pupils small, breaths heavy, his face inches from mine. I admired his face for a moment, thinking back to all the times we’d ever kissed, curious if now would be the same or different. 

I glanced down, his hand directly in the center of my chest, the tip of his claws bloodily showing through my back. He’d stabbed me, claiming a win for this duel, my hands raising in a surrender motion. 

“Shit I’m sorry,” he panted, quickly withdrawing his claws, dropping his hand from my chest. The wounds quickly healed, the blood remaining. I grinned, resting a hand lightly on his forearm. 

“No… no it’s fine. That's the best workout I’ve had in a long time. Soooo much better than running.”

Logan caught his breath, inspecting all the places I had landed a hit, the holes evident in his shirt and jeans. I tugged at my own shirt, noticing our bodies were extremely close, the heat from his body radiating to my own. 

“What in the hell is up with you? Where did you even come from?” Logan asked, more as a joke than anything. I shrugged, the grin remaining. 

“Eh, that's a long story. To keep it short, I’m  _ not _ a spy, and I’ve got a personal vendetta against one of Magneto’s guys. What better reason to stick around?”

“What have you two been doing?” Storm’s voice rang out from behind us, her hands on her hips. I could see children pressing their faces to the glass of the windows, pushing closer to get a better look at what was going on. 

“Just blowing off steam,” Logan said, nodding microscopically to me. I nodded in return, glad that I was no longer being regarded as the worthless newbie. 

“Steam that wasn't directed to each other, but more so at other things,” I added, my breath controlling itself. Storm eyed us warily, disbelief behind her eyes. I shrugged, pointing to the crumpled up piece of paper in her hand. 

“What's that?” 

Storm’s eyes snapped down to the piece of paper, remembering the reason she’d come out in the first place. 

“Its Gen. She’s not answering her phone, and Charles can't find her on Cerebro.” Storm explained, slight worry crossing her face. I tilted my head, curious as to what Cerebro was. 

“He’s never been able to find her on Cerebro though? Isn’t her entire mind like perpetually wearing Magneto’s helmet?” Logan inquired, walking in Storm’s direction. 

“Well… yeah. Either way, we’re concerned for her. We have no idea how to tell what’s going on with her now. Don’t even know where she is.” Storm pursed her lips, eyes flashing between Logan and I. My high edged away, replacing itself with anxiety. 

“Where did she go in the first place?” I demanded, taking a step closer to Storm. 

“New Orleans.” Logan’s voice said behind me, and I could hear the crunch of his boots in the grass. “She was getting a friend of mine… someone who could help us.”

“Yeah, and you sent her alone, what a great idea. I know she’s strong, but honestly NEW ORLEANS? She’ll get eaten alive!” My mind flashed back to the week I had spent in Louisiana with Rush. It was entirely new world down there, darkness lurking in every corner. I knew Gen could bring light to everything she touched, but I was sure that even her light couldn’t shine there.

“Hey, there’s nothing bad down there. Our problem is in Colorado,” Logan defended, walking into my line of vision. I stared him down, searching for anything. What was going on in that mind of his. What made him so sure this person could do much good?

The knowledge was beyond me. Well… maybe it wasn’t. 

“You don’t know where Gen is, how in the hell are you doing to know where bad things are?” I muttered, a plan flying through my mind, assembling itself. “We need to find her. Some way, some how. How did you find Magneto the last time? I knew where he was, but you were already heading out to go get him before I said anything. What did you use?”

Storm shook her head slowly and absentmindedly ripped up the piece of paper in her hand. “That was Cerebro. With the way Gen’s mind works… Charles can never see her.”

I let out a sigh and walked back to the school, angry at myself for staying asleep for so long. A thousand thoughts flew through my head and I decided against almost all of them. I faintly heard the sound of someone running behind me and I stopped, spinning around to confront whoever was following me.

It was Logan, concern weaving through his features. It was a look born of helplessness and I grit my teeth. 

“Don’t go after her.”

“And why not?” I replied indignantly, defiance causing my eyebrow to raise. Logan exhaled and looked to either side of us. It was a familiar act, something he often did before he told me something he didn’t want Victor to know.

“Because it would put her in more danger. The more mutant blood down there, the more Magneto is going to send his guys down there. We can’t run the risk. We just  _ can’t _ .” Logan stopped, our eyes locked. It was interesting, this new way I regarded him. Gen had done something more to me than just pluck a memory of Rush and I. She’d shown me that there was more than one way to get someone back, to learn to trust again. 

I just needed to start from scratch with someone I’d grown up with and loved. 

“Fine.” My response was clipped, the word harsh. “But if she’s not back in two days…”

“She’ll be back by morning.”

Charles voice made me jump slightly, it’s calm extremely different from the urgency in mine. I twisted around and looked at the bald man in the wheelchair, kindness forever etched into his worry lines it seemed. I sat down in the grass, crossing my legs in front of me. 

“You’re sure?” I grabbed his hand out of comfort. Charles cupped my hand in both of his, reassurance on his face, in the gentle way he squeezed my hand. 

“I’m positive Alice. Like I told you, I wouldn’t have sent her out there if she couldn’t handle herself,” he said, pushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. “The best you can do right now is steady yourself. Don’t be angry when she comes back, but instead be happy that she made it back.”

I nodded, looking at the grass that parted beneath me. He was right. I shouldn’t give her anything she needed to fix when she came back. That included me. 

“Okay… I will,” I stood back up, Charles letting go of my hands. 

“On another note, it looks like you and Logan got into a tussle… who won?” The ever present gleam of mischief returned to the professor's eye and I tossed my head back. A laugh escaped my lips, a smile appearing on my face.

“Logan did.”

“She gave me a run for my money though. Nothing quite like fighting someone that’s just like you,” Logan joked with a low laugh. It died out quickly though, and I frowned. “I’ve been meaning to ask. What’s your power anyway?”

I paused, staring at Charles who merely smiled and gave me a wink before rolling away in his wheelchair. What a sneaky little man he was.

“I can replicate people’s genes,” I answered, turning around to face Logan. “Comes in handy when needed.”

I quickly spun around and made my way to my room, leaving Logan standing behind me, slight confusion on his face. I had a feeling I knew what he was going to ask, but I wasn’t going to stick around and try to give him a straight answer. I had something more important to work on.

My room was brightly lit, my curtains still open from the day before. Stuff was littered all over the place, the quilt laid out here, my backpack tossed in a corner there. I sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath in.

“Let’s go,” I breathed, closing my eyes. As much as I had been honestly listening to Charles, I’d been copying his mutation, creating just enough of his power to get by. 

Voices flooded my mind, whispers and screams and murmurs, invading my brain and leaving no room to think. It was overwhelming, no sense of privacy left to myself, and I forced myself to keep with the deep breaths.  _ Inhale, exhale, you’ve done this before. You can learn this power just like any other power _ . I honed in on the ability, my first goal to silence all the other voices. Some were children, screaming in bliss as they played, others were for familiar. Jean, Scott, Storm… each of their thoughts resounding in my own mind. 

It made me want to scream out of insanity.

I envisioned each voice as a person in a room that was my head, talking amongst each other, chattering about. One by one, I shoved them out, closing the windows, locking the door. Finally. Silence.  _ Such a thing I took for granted _ , I thought. Step two.

Who do I let back in the room? I gazed out the window at the people, none the wiser that I was safely inside. I crept to the door, unlocking it warily, peeking out. There Logan stood, and I nodded to myself. Why not.

I grabbed his jacket and pulled him into the room, taking his hand. Suddenly the room disappeared and I was standing in Logan’s room. Instead of being shadowed and dark like the night I saw it, it was radiantly lit with sunlight as I stood in the corner. Logan laid on the bed, peacefully asleep and I curiously strode over, carefully and uselessly keeping my steps quiet. 

So this was the inside of that head of his… and all he did was sleep? I leaned over him, observing how tranquil his body was, the lines in his face virtually gone. I heard the click of a door knob and my head snapped up, looking as the door of the bathroom opened. Out walked Jean in a nightdress, white and simple. Her hair was down, soft and curled at the ends as she walked to the bed, laying down next to Logan, scooting her body closer.

I did a double take, suddenly unsure of what I was looking at. Wasn’t Jean with Scott..? 

_“Logan,”_ Jean whispered, her hand gently caressing his face. Her voice was light and airy, a thousand times different from the real world Jean. I watched on as Logan sleepily woke, disoriented and slow. He opened his eyes, and I’m sure the only thing he saw was Jean and her red hair. A small smile spread across his face.

_ “Hey,” _ he answered and I scowled. The two stared at each in infatuation and fondness, neither saying a word. 

“Jesus Christ Logan she’s got a boyfriend, why are you so hung up on her?” I groaned, flashing back to my mind room, shoving Logan’s persona out of the space, once again locking the door. I turned around and leaned on the wood, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor.

“You must be worse off than I thought if you’re so into Jean. God, what a hopeless fight that is,” I mumbled, leaving Charles power and returning to the real world. The sun was setting, and I laid down, arms spread out beside me creating a cross of sorts. 

“Ugh, how can you even do it Charles,” I whispered. “I’d be stuck in a mental hospital.”

I closed my eyes again, this time trying to fall asleep. It didn't take long, no dark memories there to overtake my dreams. I slept well, no dreams or nightmares. Just rest.


	6. Chapter 6

The smell of smoke woke me, stifling and thick. I sat up quickly, my hair flying out in front of me. The sun was up, and I glanced at the analog clock in the corner, it’s time reading eleven in the morning. I looked underneath my door and saw the tell tale signs of a fire trickling into my room. I sprinted over and threw open my door. Standing outside of it were two teenage boys, one completely engulfed in flames.

I stared at the burning boy, no scream escaping his lips, blinking slowly. I was trying to fully comprehend who and what was in front of me, as well as what in the hell was going on. When it finally clicked, I cooled him off with my power from 1922, snowflakes lightly stomping out the fire. The other boy spoke, and I paid enough attention to him to realize it was Bobby. 

“See John, I told you she can do what I do!” He exclaimed, shoving the other boy who rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get that. Now I’m freezing, let’s go.” The two nodded to me and walked away and down the hall. I stood, arm straight against the doorframe. I stared forward, not focused on anything in particular, taking a slow blink.

“What in the fuck just happened,” I breathed, shutting my door and collapsing back onto my bed. If I thought normal teenagers were hard, mutant teenagers just got worse. 

I closed my eyes for bit before I sighed and sat back up.  _ Time to wake up _ . I stripped, jumping in the shower, locking both doors of the bathroom this time. I changed into a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt, tidying up my room a bit. 

My mood was neutral, no happiness, no anger, just concern for when Gen was going to return. I bid a good morning to Logan and Storm who were with a group of kids, setting up a home theater of sorts. I made a quick sandwich in the kitchen, grabbing a Coke along with it. 

I sat in the grass in front of the school, taking in the nature of it all, looking out over the hill for any moment that Gen could come popping up. I finished my food, playing games with the clouds, trying to find shapes and creatures. After a couple hours of being outside, I stood and walked back in, wondering about what I should do to keep passing the time. 

I didn’t have to think for very long. Jean met up with me, indifference on her face. I shuddered inwardly, remembering Logan’s dream, suddenly wishing I hadn’t even tried looking at his thoughts. 

“Charles is calling a meeting. Come on, we’re going to his office.” She nudged my elbow and I nodded, following behind as I saw Scott tensely enter the office with Logan behind him. 

Charles sat behind his desk, the manilla folders spread out all over the place. Scott and Jean went to one half of the room, standing close while Logan and I somewhat took the other half. I stayed closer to the door, wondering if Storm was coming.

“Now we all need to catch up on the situation with Magneto and his plans. I’m sure we have each heard little bits and pieces, but this is clarify all of it. In the meantime, we’ll wait for Storm to arrive,” Charles started. I sighed, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed, head resting against the wall as well. Logan leaned against the bookshelf next to him as Scott and Jean whispered amongst themselves. 

A knock was heard against the door and Charles smiled. 

“Come in,” he called, glancing at each of us. The door to the office opened and Storm walked inside, a wide smile on her face. She stood next to me, a contentment in her posture that wasn’t there yesterday. Behind her was a man, a different energy radiating from him than I’d felt anywhere before. It was almost as if the energy of everything around him stood at attention, waiting to be told what to do. He wore a long coat, his lips slightly parted as he scanned the room. A string of familiarity tugged at the back of my mind, but I quickly dismissed it.

My face rested into a glare, realizing this was the guy Gen went to go get. There was no other way Storm would be so uppity unless Gen had come back okay. By the looks of this person though, I would beg to differ that things went  _ okay _ . 

Logan talked first, a friendliness to his tone. “Been a long time, pal.”

The man looked at Logan, his eyes brown with the slightest hint of red. His features were sharp, just as his response was. “That tequila taste any different, ey?”

I didn’t dare look at Logan, my eyes never leaving the new comer. Charles made his way around the desk and approached him. 

“Hello, Remy LeBeau. I am Professor Charles Xavier and welcome to my school,” he greeted in his normal fashion and smiled. “It is truly a pleasure.”

Pleasure my ass, is Gen okay.

“Pleasure’s sa’ll mine,” the man responded and I frowned. New fucking Orleans.

“Let’s start with proper introductions. You cannot work with them if you do not know them,” Charles nodded to each of us and I resisted letting out a groan. “Dr. Jean Grey is to the right of Scott Summers, do say hello to our guest please.”

The two stayed silent, Scott taking a microscopic step in front of Jean. Charles continued, looking to Storm and I.

“You’ve met Storm, quite lovely. Next to her is Alice Chamberlin… She joined us recently as well, I’m sure you two will find more similarities than differences.”

_ Charles say what now _ ? A scoff escaped my lips as my head bobbed, my eyes meeting my feet. I raised my eyebrows quickly before turning back to this Remy guy and resuming my glare. 

“Logan is with us as well, and by his recommendation, you are here, and of course, our resident healer Genevieve. In which, you two have obviously met,” I could hear the smile on Charles face as he took pleasure in introducing us. Introductions aren't what we needed. We needed a report. 

“Why couldn’t we hear from her? Why did it take you so long?” I stepped forward, my voice harsh.

“Now, now, Alice. He’ll tell us what happened,” Charles chastised, sparing me a look. I closed my mouth, my lips pressed into a thin line. Charles directed his next statement to Remy. “You will tell us won’t you?”

“Absolutely, sir,” the man replied, his voice unusually deep. 

“I read minds, Remy. I must ask permission, before I do so,” Charles said.  _ Oh, Remy gets a warning? All I did was sit down and got scanned _ .

The man stood tall, his voice generally unwavering. “I ‘ave nothin’ to hide.”

_ Bitch please, we all have something to hide _ . We waited as Charles dove into the past day’s events for Remy, and I pushed myself off the wall. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, not seeing anything near the reaction on Charles face that my memories warranted. 

Then he put a hand to his mouth, his eyes opening soon after. I raised an eyebrow, every muscle in my body tense. 

“You are even better than I hoped,” Charles finally said.  _ Hold on wait what now _ ? Surprise laced the others faces as we continued to stare at this new mutant.

Jean was the first to respond, stepping forward. “Well, what happened? What did he do?”

Charles glanced at her sharply, regaining his composure in a second. “Jean, he’s standing right here. Why don’t you ask him?”

We stood in silence, refusing to speak. Charles glanced at all of us before continuing on.

“It’s Victor--”

The words had barely left Charles mouth before my body froze. That motherfucker, if he had touched her… I glared at Remy, throwing myself back into my mind room. I jerked open the door, Remy’s serious persona in front of me. I snatched him by the collar of his shirt and dragged him inside, grabbing his wrist. 

I stood behind him in a dark alleyway, two figures standing before us both. One wasn’t standing though. I recognized the shine of Gen’s blonde hair against the dim street light, blood everywhere.

“Trying to hold my hand? What a nice sentiment.” Victor’s voice echoed through the alley, chilling my bones. I tore my eyes away just long enough to look at Remy, who stood there watching.  _ Why aren’t you doing anything? _ I growled, turning my attention back to the pair in front of me. Victor continued to speak, Gen becoming so weak she couldn’t even respond. 

I watched helplessly as he terrorized her, blood and darkness flowing from her veins. It was awful, her face swelling from being hit. And Remy just stood there. Still as a statue. I cursed myself for not being there to protect her, for not stopping Victor at the farm when I had the chance. I stared at the tears streaming down her face out of the pain and I found that I couldn’t stand it much longer.

I let go of Remy’s wrist, tossing his persona back out the door, returning to the real world. Charle’s voice returned, my little trip having passed in no time.

“He’s on the move again, searching for something. He attacked Genevieve and there are no words that can describe how it looked.” He was right. There wasn’t. Jean choked, grabbing onto Scott for support. “Victor was planning to take Genevieve with him. If it weren’t for our new friend, we may have never heard or seen her again.”

Fury sparked in my blood, fueling the rage the pumped through my veins. I couldn’t take it anymore. I charged out of the room, knocking roughly into Remy’s shoulder, not sparing anyone a second look. I slammed the office door, anger building up, building up so strongly that tears formed in my eyes.

I could have done something. I could have gone to help, I could have stopped Victor earlier. It was monster I had grown up with, even cared for once. It was regret beyond anything I’d ever done. I stormed down the hallway, red lining my vision. 

It lessened, peace and ease fighting their way into my soul. My eyesight cleared and I saw Gen standing in front of me, her small figure smiling at me brightly. I sighed and carefully grabbed her hand, leading her into the greenhouse. 

“Alice, you’re so--” Gen began and I stopped holding up my hand.

“You need to listen just real quick. Let me get this out. How could you go out to New Orleans like that? Actually, don’t answer that. It’s dangerous out there, god knows I know,” I ranted. “Gen you’re one of the best people in my life right now and I can’t let anything happen to you. I just  _ can’t _ . I can’t just stand idly by while you’re taking all the hits, especially from someone as horrible as him. You don’t understand what he’s capable of--”

“I do,” Gen said, her voice tiny. Her blue eyes stared into mine and I froze. Anger spilled over, but so did sadness. Disappointment in myself for failing her. Anger wasn’t the only thing to spill over as tears began to stream down my face. My hands flew to my face.  _ Stop this. Stop this crying _ .

Gen held out her arms, healthy and warm, nothing like I had seen in Remy’s memory. I wavered in my stance, balance failing me. The tears came down harder and I crumpled into her arms, hiding my face into her neck. She shh’d me lightly, resting her chin on my shoulder. I sobbed, my emotions running rampant, my mind too scattered and weak to try and control them. 

Even still, I stood, remembering what Charles had said.  _ Make it easier for her. Don’t make her have to fix anything when she returns. _ I wiped at the wetness on my cheeks, Gen reaching up and wiping at a tear herself. 

“You’re so much stronger than you think you are.” Her words were simple and I nodded, taking a step back. 

“But not strong enough to stop him.” I whispered, turning away from the concerned blonde, rushing away to my room where I could find some solace.  

I went back to the now clean room that welcomed me with empty arms. The tears slowed to a stop, and I silently praised myself for buying only waterproof makeup. Maybe Gen wouldn’t have to fix me this time… maybe I could do it myself. After all, all it took was a memory right?

I laid down on the floor, an odd choice that I sometimes picked over the bed. Elliot Rush. I let out a laugh, remembering the day that Elliot was his name… until it wasn’t. 

_ The air was thick and warm, just enough to make you want to rip off every piece of clothing, but it wouldn’t be worth the sunburn. I trudged behind the soldier in front of me, my boots sinking into the mud with every step. I couldn’t see farther than a yard on each side of me, the grass taller than myself. It stung, the leaves razor sharp and out to kill you. I looked down at the only place I could change, careful where I put my steps.  _

_ Goddamn zipperheads, how in the fuck were they able to deal with this jungle. I kept my lips pursed, aware of Rush’s steps behind me. Abruptly we stopped walking, a scream splitting the silence. It was one of us, no doubt a trap had caught his leg. _

_ “Fucking diddy-bopping I bet,” the guy in front of me cursed, moving to the side. I leaned into the grass as well, barely taking note of the cuts that formed on my cheeks. From in front of us hopped a soldier, leaning heavily on another guy, his jaw clenched. I glanced at his leg, dripping blood and limp. The remains of spikes protruded from the side of his boot, and I looked down at my own feet.  _

_ Grade A reason why I looked down. Damn Viet Cong, always slipping traps beneath our feet. Rush pressed his hand into the center of my back, gently pushing me forward to continue. Our line resumed, everyone stepping just a little bit more carefully now. Sweat dripped off my face as fast as the blood from my cuts did, my eyelashes soaked.  _

_ We were to go to the town nearest Firebase Russell, where apparently a group of Charlie's had taken camp. Now it seemed obvious, the path to them littered with snares and pitfalls.  _

_ “Goddamn either come out and fight or don’t come out at all,” I spat quietly, adjusting the gun in my grip. Rush sighed, silently following behind me. “Just don’t pull this halfass trapdoor cowardly shit.” _

_ “Damn right,” Rush agreed, his voice low. It was always slightly higher than any other soldier, a raspiness that uniquely stayed with him. The sun was setting, the world around us settling into sleep. The temperature dropped, instead leaving a thick humidity behind that could drown you. Darkness crept up behind us, the light fading at a faster and faster rate. Shit. _

_ The line stopped again, this time to take a camp of sorts. Nothing was worse than walking through this jungle at night. No reflection from their guns to tell you they were coming, no light to give shadows to depressions in the earth. Once that sun left, the only thing keeping you alive was your ears. _

_ “We’re stopping here until we know we can establish some lights,” the whisper traveled throughout the line, GI’s collapsing where they stood. We’d been walking for hours, the blisters on my feet having already formed and split, new blisters forming beneath those.  _

_ “Finally,” Rush mumbled, lightly stomping the area around himself before settling into a small depression beneath the grass. I followed suit, our backs against each other. We hadn’t slept in days, not decently at the least. Maybe a quick twenty minute power nap here or there.  _

_ “Elliot,” I whispered, running my fingers lightly over the metal of my gun, surprised at myself when they moved to my knuckles. Rush put the back of his head to mine and let out a low groan.  _

_ “What?” _

_ “Do you want to go back?” The words left my lips as I thought about America, about all the other wars I had already lived through. There I had lived; here, I was surviving. And to be quite frank, I enjoyed the life on edge, to be able to fight with an excuse. Sure, there was the minor setback of having to follow orders, but find the right people and it isn’t much of an issue.  _

_ “Days like this, yes. Yes I do want to go back. Other days though, when we’re just patrolling or fighting Chadwick, those are the days I live for.” Rush exhaled, his body leaning harder against mine. I knew he was falling asleep, just as many of the others just had. They were human, humans fighting a fight that wouldn’t matter to them either way if they lost or won. _

_ It was awful, this war. There was no true need for American involvement, but teenagers were dragged into it anyway. Rush was only nineteen, his sister barely in high school. And here he was, sitting fucking knee deep in foreign mud, where even the vegetation wanted to kill you. _

_ I tilted my head back, gazing at the stars, exhaustion sneaking up on me like a clambering toddler. I allowed my eyes to shut, just for a minute, I told myself.  _

_ It was a lot longer than a minute.  _

_ A sharp pain spread through my stomach as screams erupted all around. My eyes flashed open, a Charlie less than a foot away from my face. A knife was hilt deep in my gut, and I glared at the man.  _

_ “You shouldn’t have done that.” I thrust my head forward, headbutting him, grabbing the knife from my body. Twist, stab, repeat. Rush’s sleeping body hit the earth with a thud and I spun around to find another Viet Cong soldier there, his own knife at the ready. There were dozens of them all around us, some soldiers disorientedly swinging around their guns, shooting out into the grass.  _

_ I reached out and stabbed the shocked soldier, his eyes wide in disbelief. Fuck. He saw me get stabbed. A hit that should have killed me in my sleep. Oh well, whatever, he’s dead now. I kicked Rush in the side, throwing my bag over my shoulder. The gun hung from the strap across my chest as I wielded the knife in front of me.  _

_ Rush jumped up, his body quickly coming to alert. He grabbed at his own gun, shooting at the Charlies closest to us.  _

_ “We’ve got to get out of here,” I yelled, snatching the collar of Rush’s uniform and pulling him backwards into the sharp grass.  _

_ “No objection here,” he responded, turning around as we both ran away from the massacre, knowing that there was absolutely no way we could take on all of those Viet Cong. We ran, the leaves of the grass slicing through out skin like warm butter.  _

_ “Elliot? Alec?” A voice called out from just near us, short of breath and shaky. I stopped, looking in the direction of the voice. It was Geoffrey Walsh, his knuckles white as he clutched the gun in his hands. Behind him were two more soldiers, one seriously injured.  _

_ “Hey man, we’ve got to go,” Rush urged, racing over to the injured guy and grabbing his pack. “This should lighten the load. We’ll go a bit slower, but you’ve got to really try and keep up, okay? We’re not going to leave you.” _

_ He nodded, the other two mimicking his motion. I stepped forward and took his gun, throwing it over my shoulder. “It’s Jack, right?” Nod. “Good, look here Jack, Geoffrey is going to help you walk. Rush will take the back and I’ll lead. We need to get away from them, find a safe place. Watch your step.” _

_ “Alec, there’s no safe place here,” Rush mumbled, raising an eyebrow in warning. Don’t promise anything. I glared blankly at him, pushing my way through the grass. _

_ “We will find a safe place.” _

I woke up, darkness appearing beyond my open curtains. I was sweating, the warmth in the room causing the long sleeve I was in to become extremely uncomfortable. I shed the clothes I was wearing and changed into a tank top and a pair of shorts. My stomach grumped and I cursed myself for not having grabbed dinner. 

The clock read midnight and shrugged. Way to really follow the saying ‘midnight snack’. I strolled to the kitchen, flipping on the lights. I became dimly aware of the single burnt bulb in the middle of the line up of lights above the breakfast bar. 

_ “Alice dear, could you fix that? Kitty brought it up earlier, but Scott was too busy to fix it. I’m sorry for asking in such a manner, I just remembered.” _ Charles’s voice reverberated through my mind and I smiled softly. 

_ “Sure,”  _ I made my way to an obscure drawer, remembering from earlier that the spare light bulbs were kept there. Don’t judge, I wasn’t snooping. I had been looking for a fork. 

I clambered onto the counter, my knees biting into the granite. Reaching up, I unscrewed the bulb, carefully setting it next to me. My hand hovered over it for a small amount of time, making sure it didn’t go rolling off and shattering on the floor. I remembered the vial spinning off the nightstand in the infirmary and let out an embarrassed. 

Oh god, I had been trying so hard to contribute, and here I was, the main intel on Victor himself. Grabbing the new light bulb, I reached back up. Twisting it back in place, I waited until I had turned it in enough for it to turn on. Nothing. Two more twists. Still nothing. 

I frowned, untwisting the bulb and holding it against the old one. I wasn’t wrong… they were the same kind. I groaned, looking up at the fixture. Must be a wire. I jumped off the counter and grabbed a couple of screwdrivers and whatever other tool I figured I might need.

I returned to my spot on the counter, popping the paneling off of the light fixture. I fiddled around with a few wires when Logan walked in. He stopped, standing and staring at me, perplexed. My back was to him, my arms raised. 

“Can’t catch a break around here,” I heard him mumble as he walked around the bar, grabbing a bag of chips. I sighed, continuing to fumble with the wires. I momentarily glanced at him, observing the fact that he was regarding me nervously. 

“What?”

Logan’s eyes flashed up to mine and he shrugged. “You’re going to fall.”

“No I’m not,” I replied, clicking the panel back in place. I reached for the light bulb next to me, my balance wavering for the slightest second.

“Yes you are.” Logan walked over, placing his hands on the edge of the corner, arm on either side of my legs. I reached up, my body hyperly aware of his presence, twisting the light bulb back in place. It lit up, blinding me. I sat back on my feet, my legs folded beneath me. Logan was looking down at the floor, distracted it seemed.

I set down the screwdriver in my hand and he looked up, our eyes meeting. Our faces were inches apart and I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks. My heart raced and I forced myself to keep calm. We stared at each other but I could see the flicker in his eyes as he looked at each of my features. 

“So you went for the kitchen? Honestly I was expecting somethin’ a little better,” Remy’s new voice piped up from behind me and I jumped, the moment between Logan and I gone. Logan snapped, dropping his arms and glaring at Remy, the slightest of blushes rising on his face. I struggled to regain my balance, trying to find a place to rest my hand amongst the messy counter.

I never did find a place. I tumbled forward, a slight yelp escaping my lips as I fell off the counter, grace leaving me. My back hit the tile floor and I groaned, rolling onto my side.

“Fuck you Logan,” I grumbled, Remy racing around the bar to get a look at me. 

“I said you were going to fall.”

“Shut up,” I regained my breath and stood, snatching the bag of chips off the counter. I threw a couple in my mouth, hungrily munching on them. I turned my attention from Logan to Remy, who stood there, curiously out of place. 

_ Fucking hesitation... what kind of person does that? _

“And you. What are you doing up?” I pointed my finger at Remy, surprised at how authoritative I sounded. 

“Booze. You got any?” He asked nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow. I leaned back slightly, surprised by how direct he was being. It was much different from earlier today, and I attributed it the glint in Logan's eye. 

“How much money do you got?” I asked, adjusting my stance. Remy’s face lit up ever so slightly, hope swimming behind the red gleam in his eyes. 

“‘Round a hundred.”

“Good price,” I commented, taking a step forward, grabbing a Coke from the cabinet behind Remy. Our bodies were close and every muscle under my skin rippled, poised to move. Remy stood a head above me, our eyes locked in a battle of intimidation. “But there's no booze.”

I stepped back, twirling around and making my way to the hallway to retreat back into my room. Logan stifled a laugh and Remy’s mouth parted. 

“But--”

“I simply asked you how much money you have,” I called out, tossing the wad of cash on the table before I exited. As I walked I could hear the rustling of fabric as Remy patted his pockets, a slight gasp escaping his lips as he realized his money was gone. 

_ That should do it _ , I thought. If he thinks he's so slick, I’m better. Intimidation was possible for a 5’5” person like myself… I just needed to use the right tactics. I munched on the chips as I dashed up the steps to my room, the Coke bottle chilling in my hand. I snuggled into my bed, the food laying in front of me. 

I stared out the window, admiring the stars outside, picking out constellation after constellation. Grabbing the phone from my backpack, I tossed it in my hands. The metal was cool in my hands, the screen scratched here and there. 

_ They probably won’t answer anyway. _

I dialed a number and lifted the phone to my ear, each dial tone causing more and more suspense. It was almost one in the morning, there was no way they’d answer.

“Hello?”

I caught my breath, in disbelief that someone was on the other end.

“Eleanor?” I whispered, clutching the phone the much harder.

“Alice if that’s you I swear to God--” The voice on the other end held an ever familiar rasp to it. A child’s cry was heard in the background and I listened as the phone momentarily muffled itself as the person on the other end moved.

“Yeah it’s me,” I answered, a smile slowly creeping up on my lips.

“Where have you been? My kids want their godmother back and you’ve up and disappeared! Alec wouldn’t leave me like this and you know it. God knows my husband doesn’t help out.” It was Rush’s voice, slightly different from all those years ago, but the same nonetheless. I let out a low chuckle as I heard a man call from the background.

“I do to help you out!”

“Yes you do dear, I was just teasing,” Eleanor said, returning her attention back to the phone. “But seriously, where did you go? How long has it been… a year? Jessica is almost graduated from high school and Brad is almost a freshman, can you believe that? Poor little Abigail though, she’s currently sick.”

“I went out… fought for a bit,” I replied, not a shred of hesitance in my voice. 

“Honestly I’m not surprised, you missed the war in a way I’ll never understand. How’s that boy toy coming along? Did you finally go to that school you think he’s at? Liam was it?” I could feel the smirk on Eleanor’s lips, remembering all the rules we both broke during the war, the ultimate one being right up there with Mulan.

“Logan,” I corrected after recovering from my slight shock. I totally forgot I told her about him. “And yeah, I’ve found him.”

“And…? Did you find him?”

“Yeah… and uh, he still doesn’t remember me.”

“Damnit,” Eleanor cursed, her breath sharp. “I want some mini Alec’s running around. Honestly Alice… how long is that biological clock of yours going to last?”

Ouch. I rolled my eyes, knowing full well she couldn’t see it. “Don’t you worry about that, I’ll be fine.”

“That pretty face isn’t going to last forever.”

_ It’s lasted for 150 years Rush… I’ll be fine _ .

“I might come by and visit later… I’ll even try to make it to Jess’s graduation, okay?” I assured, the longing catching up to me. Although Eleanor and I had figured out that we weren’t just a couple of tiny guys named Elliot Rush and Alec Chamberlain, but instead a couple of kick ass bitches wanting a taste of the war, she still didn’t know that I was a mutant. At some point in time I knew she was going to start asking questions about my otherwise infinite youth, so I left.

Besides, suburb life was never really my forté. 

“Really?” There was doubt in her voice and I sighed.

“I swear.”

“Good. Same town, same high school… it’s in a month. Come stay for a week or so. Someone around here needs to teach Brad how to hit anyway.”

“But he doesn’t play baseball..?” I frowned.

“You’re right he doesn’t, but there’s a bully been going around.” No more words needed to be said and I knew the entire story.

“I’ll be there in a month, I promise.” I smiled, hoping the warmth could reach through the phone and hug Eleanor.

“Good.” More crying of a child, the sound of throwup. “Alice, I’ve got to go. One month. And I expect to see that Logan on your arm.”

“Bye Eleanor--” The click of a dead line at my ear. I sighed, the ghost of a smile on my lips. I rummaged through my bag, occasionally shoving chips in my mouth. My fingers graced a small stack of photographs, each a different size and texture. 

I smiled, pulling the stack from my backpack. The photo on top was of Eleanor’s family, complete with me on the side. It was bright in color, each of us laughing. It was three years ago, on Brad’s eleventh birthday, when we all went out to have a picnic. My hair was shorter then, my eyes crinkled at the corners. 

The next photo was quite a bit older, hazy and slightly out of focus. The hues were weak, the saturation lost… or maybe it was just that colorless in Vietnam. It was Eleanor and I, back when we were Rush and Alec, our faces hard as she smoked a cigarette. I was never overly fond of smoking and alcohol, never really needing a release from the blood and gore. I simpered, remembering how Geoffrey stuck to Rush and I like glue after that daring night, his obsession with camera’s allowing me to look at the picture in my hands. 

I flipped through the photos, happiness sparking in my heart as I remembered past pets, the different places I had lived. I removed the next photo, the one underneath stealing my breath for the slightest of moments. The border was fraying, the photo white and different shades of tan and black. My eyes froze, staring at the three faces that stared back at me. It was me, Logan, and Victor, our faces bright and full of life. I stood in the middle, my skirt shin length, wide at the bottom. My hair was short and curled, Marilyn Monroe style, the biggest trend. Logan and Victor were dressed sharply, crisp suits framing both of their figures.

_ “James darling, do tell what’s taking so long,” I called up the stairs, checking to make sure that my lipstick hadn’t smeared yet. Victor sat on one of the lounge chairs, reading a small pocket book. _

_ “One would think he already left,” Victor said, no malice in his voice, only patience and care. His hair was combed back, his black dress shoes polished. We were all going to a party to celebrate local war heroes, Logan and Victor being smash hits. _

_ “Oh Victor,” I laughed, waving off his statement. “That mean’s he would already be finished. You’re giving him far too much credit.” _

_ “You’re right.” _

_ We settled into a comfortable silence as I paced slowly around the living room, admiring the new livelihood of the place. It had been a dead and lonesome house for the years that they were gone, and even after the war, they had to leave again for some other job. I got to have Logan back for a week, before he disappeared again, and I was going to cherish every moment of it. It was a terribly cruel joke that tonight was the last night. _

_ “Well you look stunning Alice,” Logan’s voice carried across the room as he stepped down the stairs, his hair parted on the side, held in place ever so lightly. I twirled around, smiling brightly as he grinned, the scruff on his jaw expertly trimmed.  _

_ “I would say the same for you, but I’ve been waiting so long… the effort is well shown.” I replied, striding to him, placing my hand in his waiting one.  _

_ “Let’s go lovebirds, I’ve got a girl to find myself,” Victor joked, his wolfish molars making a flash appearance.  _

_ “Victor that won’t be very hard for you, that you know. Take your time, we’ll get there,” Logan called, careless and blissful in his movements. I wrapped my hand around his arm as we walked out of the doorway, my heels clicking with every step. _

_ “Darling, the ball started an hour ago. The night won’t last forever,” I chided, stopping as Logan locked the door behind us. Victor waited in the car, the engine running. Logan and I slid into the seats, each of us sitting on the front bench seat. I sat in the middle, enjoying the warmth of the brothers, my hand intertwined with Logan’s rough one. His thumb absently rubbed the back of my hand as he looked out the window, the first hints of snow beginning to fall. _

_ We arrived at the ball, lavish women in intricate dresses and men in crisp suits. Victor pulled up, allowing the valet boy to take our car, handing Victor the ticket. Walking in, I was amazed and fascinated, the world never ceasing to surprise me. The ceiling reached the heavens, a massive chandelier elegantly hanging in the middle, bathing everyone in a fashionably low light. Waiters in white vests walked around with trays of champagne glasses, each drink bubbly and golden. Logan pressed his hand onto my hip, steering us in the direction of a table. _

_ Victor leaned between us for a moment. “I’ll find you two later,” and with that he disappeared into the crowd. _

_ Our names were on the tables, each written out in perfect penmanship. Logan pulled out my seat, allowing me to sit before resigning in his chair next to me.  _

_ “Now… how long do you say until Victor finds himself a girl?” Logan asked, flashing me a grin. I sighed, turning to look at the crowd, scoping out the other ladies. I faced him again, putting a finger to my chin. _

_ “We’ve been here how long and you’re already gambling?” _

_ Logan let out a hearty laugh, leaning back in his chair. “Not gambling, just asking a question.” _

_ “No longer than an hour.” We both laughed, enjoying the simplicity of each other's company. We weren’t going to have it much longer. _

_ “Alice, leave your thing’s here. Let’s go talk to people,” Logan said, standing, reaching a hand out to help me up. I took it, grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter passing by. I sipped the sparky drink, no dull to my mind yet. Logan led, my hand in the crook of his arm as he politely said hello to other men, each wearing different medallions and medals.  _

_ I listened somewhat intently as Logan talked with different people, each shaking my hand upon introductions. One man looked at me, a roughly kind smile on his face. _

_ “Lieutenant Howler, nice to see you,” Logan greeted, extending his hand to shake. The older man shook it strongly, the black of his suit overwhelmed by the sheer  number of pins from awards.  _

_ “Corporal Howlett,” the man responded, turning his attention to me. “And who is this little lady?” _

_ Logan glanced down at me, a wide smile on his face. “This is Alice Chamberlain. Alice, meet Lieutenant Michael Howler.” _

_ “Hello Mr. Howler, it’s very lovely to meet you,” I beamed, shaking his hand. _

_ “I didn’t hear a Mrs. Howlett in there Logan… pretty girl like that on your arm and she’s not your wife?” Lieutenant Howler teased, and I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks. Logan used his arm to squeeze my hand a bit before he responded. _

_ “Just looking for the right time, sir.” The two continued to talk about other things, the situation of Japan’s final surrender, of different battles they were each at. I listened absently, looking disappointedly at my empty glass. Victor appeared beside me with a new glass, a grin on his face. _

_ “Go ahead and get drunk tonight Lissie. I’m not drinking. I’ve found a girl that’s absolutely intoxicating,” he mumbled into my ear, his eyes elsewhere. The time was close to midnight, the party as live as ever.  _

_ “Thinking of leaving soon?” I teased, keeping my voice low to avoid butting into Logan’s conversation. _

_ “If you can get chatterbox over there to shut up, I’d love to.” Victor and I exchanged grins as he waltzed back off, making a comment about how he was going to go to the car within a few minutes. Logan broke off his conversation, another man entering who wanted to speak with Howler.  _

_ “Enjoying the party, Love?” Logan whispered into my ear, his breath moving my hair ever so slightly.  _

_ “Dearly. Although I do think it’s getting a bit late,” I began, trailing off. Logan and I walked back to our table, grabbing my things. _

_ “I agree. Where is my brother off to this time?” _

_ I nodded to the direction of the massive front doors, gently pulling Logan along. “He’s already fetched the car, isn’t that great?” _

_ We spotted Victor, a dashing young woman on his arm, her hair pinned up graciously, her smile wide. Logan nodded, and we began to walk out before the woman yelped. _

_ “Oh dear me, I forgot my purse. A moment?” She asked, dashing off to one of the tables. We all laughed, a man with a large camera setting up shop in front of us.  _

_ “Would you lovely group like a photo?” The man asked, fumbling with his contraption and Logan mumbled a joke under his breath, each of us laughing outrageously at the punchline. A flash of bright white, and that moment was snatched, captured for the rest of time. Victor’s girl returned, a clutch in her hand. I smiled at her, her teeth brilliantly white.  _

_ The valet pulled up our car, Logan and I piling into the back, Victor and now Sarah in the front. Our conversations were short and sweet, no true information being exchanged. We arrived at home, Victor allowing Logan and I to get out. It had been a few dozen years since he lived with us last, but he was never farther than a few minutes away. _

_ Logan and I darted up the pathway, hand in hand, after bidding a farewell and goodnight to Victor and his date.  _

_ “That was a wonderful party,” I said, opening up the door, letting it swing open. Logan set his hands on my hips and twirled me around, my skirt flowing out.  _

_ “Not as wonderful as you,” Logan smiled, planting a kiss on my lips. I tossed my purse onto the couch along with my shawl. “And I do think this is quite the right moment.” _

_ I giggled, my mind hazed from the champagne, completely oblivious as to what he was talking about. Logan dug in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a ring, silver and simple, but beautiful.  _

_ “I’ll always come back to you… this is my promise of that. And I swear that when I get back, you won’t be using that roomy name Chamberlain anymore,” Logan winked, slipping the ring onto my finger, his eyes never leaving mine. Joy flooded my mind as I squealed and threw my arms around his neck. _

_ “It only took you eighty years.” I let go, landing back on my feet, his brown eyes meeting my green ones again. The joy turned into something more in that instant, and our lips met again, this time with a hunger. Logan pressed his hand to the small of my back, pulling my body closer to his, our hips touching. I grabbed the flaps of his suit, my hands trailing down, unbuttoning each tie I came across. _

_ The hunger grew, the want, the need for bliss. Electricity ran through my veins, every touch of his a shock of lightning. Logan pressed harder to me, his hand trailing my skirt. I jumped up, my legs wrapping around his torso, his hands on my butt. We hardly came up for air as he walked up the stairs, and I had no fear of falling, knowing he was strong enough. _

_ He dropped me on the bed, my hair losing its curl. I ran my hands through his hair, ruffling it, ruining its perfectness. He was over me, his hand trailing up my blouse, my leg wrapped around his hips, forcing him closer. There was a look in Logan’s eyes that others often called lust, but I was no fool. I knew what it was. This wasn’t near our first time together, but there was no clue in my mind telling me it was our last. _

Don’t do this to yourself. I shoved the photographs in my bag, shaking my head fiercely, throwing the memory from my mind. What good would it do, except hurt me more. I stared at the ring on my hand, it’s shape more familiar than anything else I owned. 

I chugged the last of the soda, shoving the rest of the chips into the nightstand for another night, and threw myself backwards onto the bed. Letting out a long breath I closed my eyes and dreamt of nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

“Alice… Alice…” Gen’s voice crept into the dark abyss that cradled my sleep. She nudged at my arm, a slight calm washing over me. I opened up my eyes, quickly adjusting to the dark.

“Wha..? What time is it?” I groaned, a splitting headache suddenly striking.

“Um… well… it’s around three in the morning…” Gen hesitated, helping me sit up. I blinked, trying to wake myself up. Three in the morning? I’d only been asleep, what, an hour?

“Why..?” I whined, groggily sensing her concern and urgency.

“I need your help with something… I can’t do it on my own.” Gen’s eyes flashed here and there, the ocean in the middle of a storm. I yawned, cracking my back. Ah, there we go. The headache subsided, one beautiful aspect of Logan’s power, asides from the actuality of surviving death. I finally focused on her face and saw the worry. Uh oh.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you need.”

We dashed out my room and I followed her until we turned the corner and the tell tale smell of beer slapped me in the face. In the middle of the hallway laid Remy, drunker than a teenager at their first house party. His clothes were soaked in sweat and I groaned.

“I _can't_ believe this,” I stressed, yet continued on to the intoxicated person in the hallway. With every step the smell grew stronger and I fought the urge to throw up. Sure, there were night’s Logan and Victor had gotten like this, but hell, that was an easy 70 years ago.

Gen floated behind me, her feet hardly touching the floor, her voice light. “I know, but please be gentle. I wouldn't have gotten you if I could've done it myself.”

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, throwing my head back. “This was an _absolute_ disaster. I can't believe Logan would even recommend this guy! He's-”

“-willing to help us. That's why he's here, Alice,” Gen cut me off with a momentary unexpected strength in her voice that surprised me.

I scowled, stepping closer to Remy who was conscious enough to be an annoying pain in the ass. His eyes struggled to focus on me and I noticed a beer bottle a few feet away from him.

“Hey, spitfire. Fancy taking my cash again? Or should I hand it to you and save you the trouble?” Remy slurred, his words almost unintelligible. If I didn’t have trouble taking the money the first time, it most certainly wouldn’t be a problem this time. I rolled my eyes again, sighing.

“Unbelieveable. I can't do this, Genevieve.”

Gen stepped forward, touching my shoulder. “It's okay, he's just a little tipsy and needs help getting back to his room. It won't take long.”

Well when she said it like that, it was simple. I crouched near him, grabbing the almost empty bottle. “Tipsy? He's drunk off his ass…”

I turned my attention to Remy, whose every breath was a slap in the face. “How did you even find this?”

He did his best to shrug his shoulders although it looked more like a failed worm trying move through the mud.

“Saw the opportunity, I s’ppose.”

Gen leaned down near Remy. “Alice is going to help you off of the ground and we are going to take you to your room. Does that sound okay to you?”

 _She’s asking him if I can move him… Remy, for the love of God say no._ As much as that’s what I thought, I didn’t want to hurt Gen’s feeling any more than I already had. “Why are you even asking him? It's not like his opinion matters in this.”

Remy drunkenly raised his hand, swinging it inches from my face. “Hold on. Lemme think. I _do_ have an opinion.”

 _Ugh. This is impossible._ I dragged my hands down my face out of frustration and exhaustion.

Remy laid there, a faraway look in his eyes, the same as a toddler before they’re going to shit. Gen said something about what his opinion was.

“I’ve got stuff ta do, people ta see. I've got to make money, go to Tahiti.” Remy garbled and I sighed, my eyes closing. _Fucking Tahiti? TAHITI?_

“Tahiti can wait. Don't you think bed sounds like a better alternative?” Gen asked, attempting to softly persuade him into going back to his room. Incidentally, Remy was too far gone.

“Nope. Gotta get to… Harrington’s. He's waitin’ for me, gals. I hate to keep him waitin’,” Remy spouted off, his head rolling to the side. _He?_ I tilted my head ever so slightly as Gen slightly furrowed her eyebrows.

“Who?”

Remy attempted to scoff, although it sounded more of a sick cough. “You know him! Big claws, mean face. You know him.”

My hand fell as we realized who ‘he’ was. My attention zeroed in on Remy’s mumbling as I tried to grasp onto something more… something having to do with Logan.

“What are you doing with him in Harrington’s? What happened?” I urgently stressed, clinging to Remy’s incoherent state.

He blinked slowly, a grin spreading on his face. “Wouldn't _you_ like to know.”

My flicker of hope died out and my face fell. Without a lick of emotion I growled, a hand balling into a fist.

“He’s stalling.”

Remy stared at me for a long moment before throwing his head back. “Listen, spitfire, I ain't stallin’.” Gen crouched down to help the drunken mess of a person sit up. Remy objected.

“I'm jus’ _comfortable_.”

I looked to the side, staring at the wall in exasperation. _What a mess this all was._

“Remy, this cannot be comfortable. Doesn't the floor hurt?” Gen asked, a softness to her voice that made you want to agree with anything she said. Sadly, it wasn’t enough to subside my growing impatience.

“You have five seconds to get off of the floor, jackass,” I growled.

Remy grinned goofily at me, all teeth against his sharp features. “Aren't ya gonna count down?” He drunkenly taunted. Seconds passed and I looked back at the man, his fingers poking repeatedly at his cheeks.

“I can't feel my face.”

“That's what happens when you’re a little drunk,” Gen struggled to bring him into a standing position and I let out a breath. She was seriously struggling and it didn’t look like he was much help. Gen sighed heavily. “A-Alice…”

I snapped out of my annoyance and bent next to Remy, swinging his arm over my shoulder. I stood slowly, somewhat dragging Remy behind me as I walked.

“Do you even know where your room is?” I asked, completely and utterly done with the night.

“Nope,” Remy articulated, his head bobbing around with no real strength. “By the lady in red. Tha’s _my_ room.”

I sighed, my eyebrows tiredly raising. “Sound the alarms, you actually remembered something.”

“Hey, spitfire,” he said, attempting to turn his head to look at me. It was a constant failure but he managed to hold it steady for a few moments.

“Oh, Jesus. What?” I groaned.

“Whad’ya think ‘bout Logan? I’m sorry ‘bout earlier. I’m kinda an ass.”

Everything in my mind froze, the red alert sounding in my brain. I needed to say something, anything to keep him satisfied. “We work together, we might even be friends.”

Remy sighed and continued on his little rant. “Okay, jus’ wonderin’. I’m gonna tell you a secret… He tends ta get around.”

It was a thought I didn’t often like to think about, but knew was truer than anything else. Strong, handsome, mysterious guy like Logan… what woman wouldn’t be putty between his fingers?

Thankfully Gen spoke up before I could scramble for what I would say next. “Remy, that's not a very kind thing to say about someone. He's a very nice man, who's… _um…_ misunderstood sometimes.”

Remy’s head dropped to the side again. “Sorry, Evie. Secrets aren't _ever_ good.”

What in the fuck was this dude on to? _He’s drunk Alice… ain’t no one know anything when they’re drunk._ The words repeated in my mind and I swallowed, convincing myself of their truth. Remy burst out in laughter, a new aspect to this entire escapade. I groaned.

“What is it _now?_ ”

“I have _a lot_ of secrets. I’m a… a… hippo,” Remy’s mouth opened and closed as he grappled for the right word. I scoffed, rolling my eyes.

“Hypocrite?”

“Bingo, spitball,” he slurred and I paused. _Spitball?_

“I am not a spitball.” I clipped.

“What?”

“You called me-” I began, Gen’s hand on my shoulder telling me it was worthless to even try and correct him. I nodded and stopped talking.

I walked, Remy’s feet dragging behind us as we turned the corner, the final stretch to my midnight marathon.

 _“Hey…”_ Remy mumbled, his hand waving, pointing in no general direction.“There's a bed there.”

I sighed and Gen called out little phrases of encouragement. “We’re almost to your room, just hang in there.”

We reached his door and Gen walked in first, her goal to make sure Remy and I could make it through the door okay. Honestly though, that was the least of our worries. Bottles were tossed all over the room, wrappers from various granola bars littering the ground. There wasn’t any open spaces big enough to step and I let out an exasperated sigh. What better thing to do than laugh at it?

“Holy shit, you're worse than I ever expected,” I allowed a faint smile to cross my face and Gen rushed around, picking up bottles here and there, creating a small trail to the bed. I dropped Remy’s body onto the bed, Gen working to help him out with the covers. I tried to dissuade her from even trying, but Gen quickly stopped me, her words soft. Giving up, I walked around, filling my arms with the trash, trying to get _some_ sort of order established. Gen joined me as we picked up Remy’s room, the little nuisance finally weaving in and out of sleep.

“Thank you for helping me, Alice,” Gen spoke up, her eyes looking down at the bottle in front of her. “You're a great friend.”

I stopped, caught off guard by the statement. “I… Friends?”

“Why else would I ask you to help me?” Gen asked, a smile on her face. It was soft, her hair framing her youthful face. “Seek ways to talk to you?”

We walked to the door, dropping the trash in the trash can near the door. I reached out and rested my hand on the doorknob. “I thought it was because I was the only one half awake.”

Gen playfully frowned and reverted back to her smile, shaking her head slightly. “Oh, _no._ Scott was awake but he's not nearly as nice of a companion.”

We strode out of Remy’s room, shutting the door behind us. The hallway was quiet once again, the smell of alcohol and beer subsiding. I grinned softly and began walking down the hall. “That’s understandable. Especially with Remy in _that_ state…”

“I also think it was Scott’s beer that Remy got into,” Gen pondered, her head down. I laughed, putting my hands in my pockets.

“Yeah, that wouldn’t be very smart… _let’s just make you clean up what was suppose to be yours,_ ” I joked, laughing hesitantly. Gen cracked a smile as we reached the bottom of the stairs. She reached out and touched my arm, sympathy on her face.

“Alice… how have you been doing? I know it wasn’t easy your first day… have things gotten better with him?” Gen asked, her voice low but good natured. I shrugged, looking away.

“It’s getting better. You reminded me that although we used to have something… maybe I could start from scratch. It’s not impossible to make a new friend,” I remarked, despair dragging down the hope that tried to surface. Gen nodded and dropped her hand, a wave of calm crashing like the ocean against the sand of my sadness.

“That’s good.”

We parted ways, Gen pulling a key from her robe. I trudged up the stairs, finally flopping back onto my bed. At least now I could attempt to get a couple hours of sleep.

\--

“Storm, I’m telling you I saw her walk straight through the hallway and onto outside, with a severe lack of _doors_ ,” I stressed, momentarily forgetting I was in a school full of abnormal children.

“That’s Katherine, or Kitty as we call her. That's what she can do,” Storm chuckled, a small child pulling on her arm. “Walk through walls as she wishes.”

“Ms. Storm, can you please come play with us? Dash and I wanted to play in the rain, you know much much fun that is!” The little boy continued to tug on her arm, and Storm chuckled, crouching down to get on the boy’s level.

“I’ll be right out there okay Danny? Sound good to you?” Storm’s smile was radiant and I ruffled the little boy’s hair.

“Yes!” Danny sprinted out the door, joining his friend in the grass. Most of the kids were outside, one running on the pond, another gliding above. Storm stood back up, bidding me a small farewell nod.

“Go find Jean… I feel that you two should have a real talk. After all, she’ll be going with us on this next mission. Get to know each other. You’ll like her, I promise.” With that Storm walked outside, summoning a small rain cloud amongst the almost clear sky.

I shrugged, walking throughout the school. Why not go talk to Jean. What harm could come from that? I made my way to the lab, having heard Gen mention that’s where she liked to stay. I passed by Scott who had a couple of teenagers following him as he explained how kinetic energy worked.

“Is Jean in her office?” I asked, pressing my hand to his shoulder to get his attention. Scott stopped for a moment and looked at the ceiling.

“Uh, yeah. I think so. Hey, that new guy, drunk pretty boy. Where is he?” Scott answered, looking back at me. I raised my eyebrows, curious as to what he wanted with Remy.

“Not a clue. I'm sure if you find Logan though, you’ll find him. Why do you want him? Going to get a room together?” I smirked, the corner of my mouth curling. Scott scoffed and shook his head.

“No, no. It’s just his power is kinetic energy right? Might as well put him to some use here, have him teach today's lesson.”

I nodded, tapping my cheek. “Yeah, he’ll probably be with Logan. You trust him that much?”

“No.”

We continued on our separate ways and I cautiously opened the door to the laboratory, a cold room surrounded by steel tables and stools. Off in the corner sat Jean, her head in her hands.

“Hey there, Jean,” I gently called out, taking a step into the room. She looked up, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Oh hi Alice. What can I help you with?” She offered a smile that I returned, awkwardly grabbing a seat and sitting in front of her desk.

“Nothing really… just wanted to talk. You look like you could use a break,” I commented. Honestly I was just listening to what Storm had suggested.

“Ha, I think I do as well. How are you liking it here?”

I nodded, somewhat avoiding eye contact. “It's been lovely… few bumps here and there, but lovely.”

Jean smiled, resting her arms on the table. “How bad were these bumps?” It was an honest question, but more for use of gauging my state, not for gossip.

I flashed back to throwing up in the bathroom, Logan carrying me to Gen, Logan’s fantasy in my own mind. The hungover state after my fight in the forest.

“Some worse than others,” I paused, staring at her. Our eyes were locked, the silence no longer uneasy, but a time each of us were taking to understand the other. “How do you guys train? You’ve got to do _something_ right?”

Jean leaned back for a moment, surprised as my sudden change in subject. “Well yes, we have a room for that. Often use it to condition the older students into using their powers in combat…”

“It’s not an easy life they’ll lead.”

“Exactly. We need to protect them in more ways than one, and if helping them help themselves is one of them, so be it,” Jean smiled softly, resting her hands in her lap. There were papers spread all over the desk, the manila files having made their way from Charles desk to here.

“Is there a chance I could use it?” I asked hesitantly, my fingers beginning to wrestle with each other. Jean nodded, standing up.

“Yeah, why not? I can give you a run down if you want. Can I ask why?” Jean walked out from behind her desk, standing a couple inches taller than me. It was a bit shocking, I was used to being on the taller side. Her perfume was faint, strong enough just to let you know there was a woman in the room.

“Because I hate getting drunk,” I mumbled, following as Jean walked around the lab.

“What?”

“If I switch too much, I get the equivalent of a hangover. Night before last, I got sick as hell. Guess you could say I’m out of shape,” I chuckled nervously as Jean tossed me another suit.

“Here, put this on. It allows the machine to target you. Uh… there’s not really any rules. You can keep in mind that none of it is real if that helps you. Do you know what a Sentinel is?” Jean asked, walking out of the lab, heading to the elevator.

“A what now?”

“Sentinel. They’re these huge mechanical monsters that are programmed to kill mutants,” Jean explained nonchalantly and my eyebrows raised.

“Well then.”

“Yeah. Anyway, Trask tried creating them back in the seventies, due to what happened at Cuba. I personally have never seen one, but we go based off of whatever Logan says… he hates the things.” I stared as Jean opened the elevator and stepped inside, moving to the side so I could stand.

“So Logan told you to make this machine replicate Sentinels? Even though they pretty much don’t exist?” I asked, trying to process what I was actually about to do.

“Need to be prepared for anything,” Jean stated. The elevator opened and she strode out, hastily walking to a particular door. “Go and change real quick while I program the machine. It should be ready soon.”

I paused, glancing at the suit in my hands. “Hey Jean… thank you for this.”

She looked my way, a smile appearing on her face almost as an afterthought. “Anytime.”

I changed quickly, wiggling here and there, conditioning myself to the odd feel. The suit hugged in the oddest places, a larger patch of a metal-like plate near my wrist. Jean directed me into a massive room, metal paneling lining the walls. The floor was flat and cold, easily showing my reflection.

“Once I close this door, the simulation will start. Don’t be afraid to use your power. It can handle anything. Do you want a time limit before it turns off or do you want it to be a defeat stop?” Jean explained as she stood in the doorway.

“Defeat stop?”

“You beat the Sentinel…”

“Well considering I’m trying to get back into practice… let’s go for fifteen minutes.”

Jean’s eyebrows raised and she twirled on the balls of her feet, nodding. “Okay.”

The door shut, closing me into the room. I breathed deeply, backing to the wall, watching as the room transformed from a shell of metal into an entire parking lot engulfed in flames. Cars materialized and rubble from buildings created mountains around me. Instantly the room went from being a fairly large space into a world complete with no walls.

Screams could be heard off in the distance, a dreadful rumble causing my heart to want to fold in on itself. Smoke burned my eyes, darkness showing no sky. I could hardly see anything unless it was by light of the fire. I had no idea what I was fighting… no idea what it was capable of.

_Fifteen minutes… Come on Alice… just fifteen minutes. Remember what Alec could do with Chadwick in just three?_

Any hint of fear that rested in my mind dissipated, a grin forming on my face. This wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

“Hey!” I screamed to draw out whatever I was to fight. The ominous sound that shook me to my core grew louder and my uneasiness slowly returned. I had no idea what power I needed first, no clue as to what I was looking at.

A shadow. That’s all I had. The creature was ten feet tall, built in a horrific shape of a human, faceless and cold. It looked as if it were made of metal, but the scale like surface hinted otherwise. It took a step closer to me, the ground shaking beneath my feet. My first instinct was as always. First hit. Let them get first hit. Understand what you’re fighting.

Except I felt that if I got hit once by one of those things, I’d be so far gone there wouldn’t even be a fight. 1915. The whip trailed from my arm, the length pooling around my feet. I jumped back onto a crushed truck, trying to gain some height on this thing, draw it into what little light I had.

“Clunker!” I yelled the sad excuse of an insult and hoped for the best. I'm not sure if this thing responded to the actual name or just the fact I made noise, but it began making its way toward me. I bent my knees, ready to jump when it stepped into the light.

My skin crawled. There was something so _unnatural_ about this thing. I flicked my wrist, the whip curling around the thing’s neck. I yanked, my body flying upwards. The deep rumble grew and everything part of my body screamed for me to run the other way. Perched on its shoulders, my fingers grappling for any kink in this thing's armor, the Sentinel swung forward.

I flew, my body flipping head over heels before I hit a car. The Sentinel made a somewhat satisfied hiss and I scrambled to stand. The scales were smooth, the entire machine one piece of flowing _something_. No way I’d be able to kill it from the inside.

  1. I sprung up, the jump abnormally high. 1917. Flames surrounded my hands, the light intensely bright.



“Agh!” I screamed, thrusting my hands in the direction of the Sentinel, two long solar flares of pure fire striking the machine in it’s chest. I floated in the air, my teeth bared as I watched the machine fall to its knees. I was beating it… such a terrible thing and I was beating it.

It’s body began to radiate a heat that would have melted any normal person. I stared as the Sentinel turned into a fiery sun, stronger than anything I had ever seen. I switched out, dropping to the ground, watching in amazement and fear as the Sentinel returned to its original state completely unharmed.

What _is_ this thing? I switched into 1978 and crept closer to the machine, careful to keep my steps quiet. I could feel my body tiring, having already switched more than normal. The Sentinel scanned its surroundings, trying to find where I went, but as expected, I was nowhere to be seen. Soon I was near it’s feet, and I switched out into my normal self, trying to understand how this thing ticked.

There _had_ to be something that gave it away. The moment I appeared, the Sentinel looked straight down and I yelped. Its arm sharpened into a point larger than a damn Christmas tree and it swiped in my direction. Barely dodging the massive spear I rolled, flipping through anything I could use.

I twisted around to face the Sentinel, but I saw nothing. Just fire and smoke and debris.

“What in the fuck?” I gasped, my body becoming weaker and weaker. I scanned the sky, looking for any shadow that could give this thing away.

My chest suddenly spouted blood, a gap in the space between my ribs growing with every second. I gasped, the air leaving my lungs, blood dripping from my mouth. The pain was momentarily unbearable, Logan’s power keeping me alive. The Sentinel materialized in front of me, its spear of an arm through my chest. Its head was inches from mine and judging by its motions, I was suppose to be dead.

“Not… not that easy… to kill me motherfucker,” I spat, blood causing me to choke. I wasn’t dying… I knew that. The pain just made me wish I were dead. The Sentinel shifted its arm back into normal form, my limp body falling from the air. The cavity in my chest worked to heal, every labored breath agonizing.

The machine took a step back and I heaved, sickness overwhelming my body. _Why didn’t I say ten minutes… hell, five would have been plenty._ My throwup was similar to bloody coffee grounds and I struggled to stand. How do I fight a thing like this?

My eyes closed, tears running down my cheeks. I promised myself I’d never use it. Never. Fire blazed around me and I curled my arms around my body, the Sentinel taking a step towards me. Just this once. Use it just this once.

1865\. One of the first powers I had ever been cursed with. My hair intertwined around my arms and body, it’s softness clumping together to create scaly creatures that hissed. The weight of my head grew and I closed my eyes, refusing to look at the snakes that were my hair just mere seconds before. God, just this once.

I opened my eyes, staring at the Sentinel as it took its last step to me. Sure enough, my curse worked. Starting from its feet, the Sentinel turned to stone, unable to come any closer. It outstretched its arm, trying to understand what was happening to it.

“Adapt to this fucker,” I growled, hatred lacing my voice. Within seconds the Sentinel was stone, a statue of what would now haunt my nightmares. I switched out, my hair falling from the hissing snakes, wavy and brown. I closed my eyes, falling to my side, illness overtaking my body. Tears streamed down my face as the make believe room disappeared, the empty room reappearing.

The door opened, bright light pouring into the dim room. Jean sprinted from the doorway to me, her heels clicking furiously. She crouched down next to me, her white lab coat draping around her. I shook, silently cursing myself for being so out of practice.

“Alice! Are you okay… are you…” Jean asked although I hardly heard her. My head pounded, my vision darkening. My stomach lurched left and right as if I were stuck in the trunk of a Nascar vehicle.

“Gen…” I whispered, my voice as hoarse and weak as my body. “I need Gen…”

Jean nodded and guided me onto my back, allowing my breaths to deepen ever so slightly. “I’ll go find her. Just… stay right here.”

 _I'm certainly not going anywhere._ I groaned, my head feeling as though someone were pulling it apart with a spoon. I’d gotten drunk once… once. And it was close to how I felt now. I could never understand how someone could subject themselves to that.

I remembered Remy’s intoxicated state the night before and slipped deeper into my hazed mind. It was odd, the way my body worked. Stay the same ability for years, no problem. Switch between five or six, and suddenly I have terminal cancer.

My eyelids grew heavy as I barely noticed the shadowed figures that ran into the room, Gen’s white blonde hair flowing around her face. Darkness surrounded my soul and it was too irresistible. I was gone before Gen could say a word.


	8. Chapter 8

_ I pulled the hat low over my face, the coat far too oversized for my small figure. The front door was thankfully unlocked, my dress shredded, my key lost. Mrs. Perkins hummed contently in the kitchen, a sweet smell of honey bread lofting in.  _

_ My eyes were bloodshot, my arms scraped and bleeding. What better way to spend a twenty second birthday. ‘Such beauty… I wish a man could look at me the way they gaze at you,’ the cloaked woman had drawn. What an idiot I was to not run the other direction. The hissing from underneath my hat rattled my brain and chipped away at my sanity.  _

_ “Oh darling Alice, is that you?” Mrs. Perkins voice piped up from the kitchen, singsong and delightful.  _

_ “Erm, yes it is Mrs. Perkins!” I pulled the hat even lower, fearing myself more than I feared Mrs. Perkins seeing my bloody state.  _

_ “I am so glad you’re home dear! Here! I baked some fresh bread, just for your birthday! I’m honestly quite surprised you haven’t up and married James, you two are quite attracted to each other, after all you’ve been of age for a couple of years now…” Mrs. Perkins went on and on as she walked around the corner, entering the hallway I was standing in. Her dress was larger than life, layered every few inches, the sleeves long and flowing. Mrs. Perkins allowed Victor, James, and I to stay upstairs, raising us almost as her children. She was older, her hair thinning and turning a soft silver. Her kind smile never left her eyes, that was unless James and Victor had taken the last cookies from the jar.  _

_ I took a step back apprehensively, trying to cover every inch of skin I could. “Mrs. Perkins, thank you so much… but I’m afraid I need to excuse myself to the washroom.”  _

_ “Alice dear, do take off that ridiculous jacket, it’s not very lady like. Here, let me help you.” She walked forward, her heels clicking with each step she took. I backed up, my back hitting the door. I curled in on myself, my body shaking. _

_ “No… no Mrs. Perkins, it’s quite alright I just need to get to the washroom… no please leave my hat, my h-hat…” _

_ Mrs. Perkins grabbed my hat and lifted it, the edges escaping my grasp. She screamed, dropping the hat, her face full of terror. Tears brimmed my eyes as the snakes curled around my face, nipping at my ears and jacket.  _

_ “Mrs. Perkins no, no, no,” I sobbed, grabbing at her arms as her feet turned to stone. It spread quickly, racing up from the hem of her dress to her laced collar, from her neck to the tips of her hair. In just seconds the loving woman in front of me turned into a statue, forever a look of horror scarring her beautiful face.  _

_ I threw my arms around her, the sobs wracking my body. The stone was cold, no warmth left from the body she once was. The pain from my wounds was nothing compared to what my heart felt, each second a stab of agony. I needed to hide myself before James and Victor arrived home. I couldn’t do the same thing to them. _

_ I caressed Mrs. Perkins face once last time, tears streaming down my face, regret and sorrow invading my soul. I dashed up the stairs, careful not to trip on the shreds of my dress. Throwing the door to my room open, I closed the curtains, slamming the door shut, plunging myself into darkness. _

_ The silence of what could have been was sliced through by my cries, my screams, my sobs of sadness as well as the hissing of the snakes that were once my hair. I curled up against the door, my head in my hands.  _

_ ‘Perhaps I could help you dear… stop all those men from leering at you… give me your hand dear, and I’ll show you something beautiful.’ The cloaked woman spoke with words that would make my hair rise, but her voice was sweet as honey, capturing my heart. I reached out and laid my hand in her youthful one, not a single scar ruining her skin. _

_ No sooner had our skin touched did I feel the change. My hair clumping, hissing filling my ears. The change in my eyes, my vision altering slightly. _

_ ‘What is happening to me?’ I cried, the woman raising her free hand to her hood. ‘What’s happening!’ _

_ The woman lowered her hood, and I held back a scream. Her eyes were that of snakes, her hair long and scaly. Snake heads snapped and hissed at the ends, an awful smirk on her face.  _

_ ‘Although I had different plans for you… I do admit, this is so much sweeter.’ Her voice was poison and I fell to my knees, my dress ripping. She had my hand in a death grip, escape only a hope.  _

_ ‘What… what are you?’ I asked, fear swallowing me whole. The woman only laughed, careless and evil. _

_ ‘I’m just like you dear… forever unable to let anyone gaze upon you… that is unless you want a beautiful statue garden like I do.’ _

_ I gasped, fear replacing itself with adrenaline and anger. ‘I didn’t ask for this!’ I rose, my arm flying out and my fist connecting with her face. The woman reared back, blood flowing from her nose. She recovered, rage an understatement on her end. She released my hand, but not before sinking her nails into my arm, ripping the sleeves of my dress and slicing open the skin that resided underneath. _

_ The satisfaction that normally resided upon being injured quickly disappeared as I watched the blood continue to flow, my body doing nothing to heal itself. True fear shook to me to my core as I looked back at the woman, hatred in her snake-like eyes.  _

_ ‘Darling bitch… you did this to yourself.’ _

_ A knock on the door behind me shook me from my terror, Victor’s urgent voice slightly muffled by the door. _

_ “Alice! What’s going on! Mrs. Perkins is stone downstairs! Where are you?” He pounded on the door more, each hit knocking me forward. I struggled to control my crying before I responded, sadness like an addicting drug that I desperately wanted to quit. _

_ “She’s… I-I’m so sorry Victor,” I cried, throwing my head into my hands. The doorknob jiggled as he tried to open the door. I kept my body against it, wanting to keep the wood between us. _

_ “What’s going on Alice?” James’s voice was concerned and scared, and I hid further into myself. _

_ “Just go away it’s not safe!” The cries make my throat hoarse and raw. I could barely hear as James and Victor mumbled from behind the door to each other. Soon, James spoke through the door again, his voice soft. _

_ “Alice… open the door please… just a little bit. Victor’s getting you a glass of water…” James jiggled the door handle faintly, just enough to ask permission. _

_ “No…” my voice quivered. My stomach tossed this way and that. _

_ “Alice… let me in. Even if it’s just an inch… open the door…” James said, tapping on the wooden door. “Let me help you.” _

_ I leaned forward, my head still in my hands. James tried the door again, and this time I did allow it to open ever so slightly.  _

_ “Don’t look,” I whispered, resting my hand on the floor near the crack in the door. Instead of being met with a cup, I felt as James wrapped a finger around my pinky, a promise of sorts. _

_ “See… this is okay right?” He said calmly. I nodded although he couldn’t see it. “You’ll be okay… I swear…” _

_ The snakes fell from the clumps they had created as my hair softly cascaded down my back. My vision cleared again, the snake aspect leaving them. His simple touch allowed my body to heal again and I realized that we weren’t just like each other. We were different, even if the impression told otherwise. _

_ “James…” I murmured and he let out a breath in response. “I didn’t mean to do it…” _

_ “I know you didn’t… I know you didn’t… Victor knows it too.” _

That was the first time I understood my power. The first time I had met a mutant other than Logan and Victor.

The first time I realized I was dangerous.

\--

“Ugh, why do we have to watch her? Couldn’t Sunglasses have done it?” Remy’s voice was muffled as my body slowly woke itself from its unconscious state. 

“Just shut up Remy. It’s my turn for watch… you don’t even need to be in here.” Logan’s voice wasn’t quite annoyed, just tired. I kept my eyes closed, my head throbbing. I could hear the tap, tap, tap, of Remy’s footsteps as he paced the room, trying to keep himself entertained. 

“Yeah, well, I can’t subject you to this boredom, now can I?”

“It’s not boring, I’m trying to sleep,” Logan groaned, the chair he was sitting in creaking. I breathed slowly, each breath sending a sharp pain to my head. In the middle of one, my breath hitched and I began coughing, each thunderous exhale driving the pain in my mind deeper and deeper into my body.

“Way to wake her up,” Remy accused jokingly and I opened my eyes, my hands hugging my arms for support. Logan’s head blocked the light as he leaned over me, slight concern on his face. His hands rested on the bed I was laying on, the mattress dipping slightly in his direction.

I slowly sat up, no muscle sore, but every movement sending a new shockwave of pain through my head. God, I never looked forward to post switching, especially when out of practice. I groaned, my breathing shallow.

“How long… how long have I been out?” I whimpered, pressing my hands to my head. Logan took a step back.

“Couple days… Gen asked me to watch you. She’s eating right now.” Logan looked down, unsure of what to do next. I swung my feet over the side of the bed, building up the strength to stand up.

“Well I want to go see her,” I mumbled, bouncing myself into a standing position. It didn’t last long. I began falling forward, my entire body weak. Logan stepped forward and grabbed underneath my arms, the two of us in this awkward dance of sorts. “I hate this.”

“Don’t go literally falling for him spitfire… Logan’s got his eyes set on some otha’ gal,” Remy commented behind me and I hung my head. My knees were on the floor, Logan’s arms around me, keeping me from falling any farther. His body was warm, his scent the same as when he left me last. He grunted, picking me up from our crouched position.

“Just lay here… Jesus, just don’t move. I’ll go get Gen.” Logan grumbled, laying me back down on the bed. I groaned, resting my pounding head on the pillow. 

“Thanks James,” I whispered, turning onto my side. My mind was growing hazy again, unable to realize my mistake. Everything was getting just a little bit fuzzy on the corners but Remy’s face appeared inches from mine, an expression of devilry that made me uneasy.

“I know Logan boy didn’t hear that, but I sure did,” Remy pressed, his eyes flashing to the door. I rolled my eyes and rotated around, my back to the devil. He pranced around the bed and crouched in front of me, excitement and mischief in his voice. “Why’d ya call him that?”

“Mistake,” I growled, closing my eyes, wishing I could delve back into the darkness I’d been residing in. Remy poked my arm, the hit light but annoying.

“So who’s James? Can’t be some friend of yours that you’re not tellin’ us ‘bout? What ‘bout a past lover?” Remy grinned, his teeth unusually straight. I glared at him, pulling sheets over my head. 

“Go away.”

“I’ll just go get James then,” Remy snapped back and I peeked my head out from underneath the blanket.

“Don’t you dare…” The growl was threatening, no different than that of a wolf. 

“It’ll only take me a second,” he taunted, beginning to stand.

“What will only take a second?” Genevieve’s light voice sounded in the large room and Remy twisted around, his previous persona dropping.

“To get spitfire here up and walking. She had a bit of a tumble when you were out… great aim by the way,” Remy finished, casting me a sly wink. I huffed, turning my attention to Gen. As much as she physically looked fine, something was off. The light that followed her around was dimmer than normal, but for her sake, I hid my frown. Logan walked behind her, his jaw clenched. 

“Remy, let’s get out of here. Gen’s got her,” Logan said, attempting to take leave. Gen nodded, agreeing with him, although I wasn’t sure what her motive was. The two men shuffled out, Remy making odd comments here and there as they went. 

“Jean is on her way… wanted to see how you were doing,” Gen said softly, checking me in various places to see how I was doing. When she touched my head, the splitting headache subsided and I began to feel significantly better. 

“That feels good,” I whispered, indulging myself in the comfort. Gen smiled, and I took note of the bags under her eyes. Maybe she wasn’t getting as much sleep because I had shown up. After all, it had been about a week, and I’d spent about 60% of it half dead.

“Good… what were you thinking?” Gen asked, her eyebrows twitching. I shrugged, sitting up.

“I can’t keep being dead weight like this… it’s frustrating as much as I’d like it not to be,” I rolled my eyes, my eyes meeting Genevieve’s blue ones. I’d seen plenty of different eye colors in my time, some breathtaking, others striking. Her’s were different. They weren’t harsh, nor loud. They were subtle… subdued almost… soft and sweet. 

“You’re not dead weight,” Gen defended, a light smile on her face.

“Gen… I fought a fake simulation, as much as it seemed real as hell, and passed out for two days. I go on one informations mission and get sick to the point of death for the night… I’m sure that’s dead weight.”

“You’re just out of practice. You said it yourself, out of practice,” Gen finalized, her way of comforting an odd one, but it worked. The sound of heel clicking on tile sounded around the room and the two of us looked in the direction of the door.

Jean strode towards us, her bright red dress in competition with her hair. Her expression was intense and somewhat excited. She sat on the bed next to mine, leaning forward slightly, her breathing controlled. 

“You’re phenomenal,” Jean said, and I blinked, trying to understand who exactly she was talking to. Gen squeezed my arm, enough to tell me that the comment was directed to me.

“As much as I’d love to be, I’m only a mutant,” I replied, trying to twist some humor into my words.

“No… you don’t understand. You’re the first one to beat the Sentinel on your own. We always go in groups to learn teamwork… of course Logan always tries to show off, but we never send someone in there alone,” Jean marveled and I raised an eyebrow, not the least bit amused.

“But you sent me in there alone…”

Jean shook her head and bobbed her knee. “I still don’t know what told me to do it honestly… maybe to see everything you could do? Logan had told me about the fight you two had, about how he’d never fought that hard for fun before. I figured there was something special about you.”

“I guess there it was,” I shrugged, swinging my feet back over the side of the bed. I stared at my socks, wiggling my toes. “Just a lifetime of survival… that thing was a monster.”

“When Logan first told about them to us, we thought he was just joking. It was such an out of the blue sort of thing to talk about. It wasn’t until Charles told us about the nightmares Logan got from the things that we finally created the simulations of them.”

“Those things are the stuff of nightmares,” I mumbled, thinking about the awful noise they made, the kind that made you want to hide behind your mother's skirts. 

“And you beat it in under fifteen minutes,” Jean finished. I looked up and we stared at each other, an odd hope in her eyes. “I think if you could ‘get back into practice’ as you say, we’ll have no problem taking on Magneto this time.”

My breathing slowed as I thought about what I had seen at the farm. Sure, everything wouldn’t be all that hard, but just seeing Victor there had shaken me to my core. Who knew how well I would hold up if I actually had to fight him. I pushed the rising memory from my mind, knowing if I thought about it, I’d be even worse off.

“Perhaps,” I whispered, glancing at Gen who rested her hand on my back, sending a new wave of calm through my body. I nodded gratefully and returned my attention to Jean.

“Indulge me a bit in some common gossip. All this life or death talk can get a bit tiresome,” I started, tilting my head back. “You and Scott… how long has that been a thing?”

Jean paused for a moment, judging whether or not the question was genuine. I stared, my face blank. Gen let out a soft laugh and put a hand to her mouth.

“I’m sorry…” she laughed. “I was just expecting something better.”

“Me too,” Jean laughed, Gen’s attitude allowing for Jean to take on a carefree temper. “And it’s been a thing for a while. I was here when Scott showed up with his brother Alex… it was interesting to see… a Scott with absolutely no grasp on his ability.”

I stifled a laugh and hid my head in my hands. “I would pay some money to see that. Did he disagree with Logan then too?”

Jean paused, her smile faltering. “Logan wasn’t here yet. He didn’t show up but a couple years ago. Had me in a headlock within a few seconds of waking up.”

“Wow. Hard to believe he’s so infatuated with you now, judging from that little fact.” I still wasn’t looking at her, my eyes looking at the floor between my fingers. 

“Yeah.” Her answer was short, clipped, guarded. I took note of it, refusing to look up. 

“Gen?” I said, deciding that a change of subject was in order. 

“Yes?”

“What happened in New Orleans?” As much as I already knew a majority of the answer, I wanted to know her take on it. Gen’s hand on my back froze, each of us stiff as boards.

“I found Remy… well more like he found me,” Gen said cautiously, and I dropped my hands from my face. Jean stared at Gen, worry etched into her features. The blonde took a breath before continuing. “I was trying to find a hotel for the night. Victor was following me… he’s such a broken man.”

“Broken isn’t the right word,” I mumbled, thinking back on my own experience. Victor was far from broken. Sure, that’s something he may have been once, a century ago, those shattered pieces had hardened and reformed into something much worse than before.

“Broken…” Gen re enforced, her hand dropping from my back. I was just about back to full health, the headache just a small pain now. 

“He wanted to take me to Magneto… made some comment about how great it would be if he showed back up with me. I passed out soon after that. By the time I woke up, I was in Remy’s place.” Gen finished quickly, her eyes not meeting mine or Jean’s. I knew she was leaving something out, probably more than something, but I was in no mood to press.

Jean spoke first, breaking the silence. “Why would he want you?”

Gen shrugged, plastering a smile on her face. “I don’t know. I really can’t do anything  _ too _ special.”

I stood, turning my neck left and right.

“I’m going for a run. Haven’t done it in a bit. Probably a lot better than fighting another Sentinel,” I darkly joked, bidding a farewell to the two women. Out of the room I walked, dashing to my room to change. It was midday and children were running all around the front of the school enjoying themselves.

I was almost out of the door when Rogue and Bobby ran up, hand in hand. Rogue’s hand’s were gloved and I nodded to myself, understanding that Rogue’s power had to be direct contact. 

“Where are you going?” Bobby asked, the two slightly breathless. Rogue stared at me with her grey eyes and I took a small step back, oddly uncomfortable. 

“For a run… what are you two up to?” I replied, all of us in some sort of a stare down. 

“About to go do some training. Want to join?” Rogue spoke up, her voice harsh although she seemed nice enough with the offer. 

“I’m good… been out for a couple days… figured I should take it a bit slower,” I grinned, pulling my headphones from my pocket. 

“Does that apply to relationships too?” Rogue asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes. I paused, the smile frozen on my face.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“I don’t know…” Rogue trailed off, tugging at the ends of her hair. “Just looks like you’ve got your eyes set on Logan.”

Bobby nodded in agreement and I blinked slowly, trying to understand where all of this was suddenly coming from. 

“You kids are like what, sixteen?” I said, confused as ever.

“Eighteen,” Bobby answered proudly and I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “Not much younger than you, right?”

“Wrong. Don’t you two need to go to training? You’re going to be late,” I commented, shoving the headphones in my ears and taking off, not waiting for a response.  _ Bold teenagers these days _ , I thought as I took off across the mansion grounds, my mind clearing. 

I needed to strengthen my body, get it back to how it used to be. All this switching and passing out right after was beginning to bother me, especially when I knew I was capable of more. I jogged through the woods, my breathing becoming increasingly labored as the minutes wore on, but I welcomed the burn from my lungs. I neared the edge of the woods, noticing claw marks along one of the trees and I remembered the fight between one of Magneto’s men and I. 

I slowed to a walk, searching the woods for the large metal box, but the more I looked, the more I became convinced that it was gone. Instead, I found pressed down grass in the shape of a giant square, the only hint that the metal box was once there. 

_ What was going on _ , I wondered, looking around for any other evidence of what was. First this thing, then Victor wanting to take Gen back... everything was crazy. Nothing made sense, and I didn’t like that. Not one bit.

And I was determined to find out something that made sense. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

I sprinted back to the mansion, wasting no time getting back to the training room. I paused, noticing Charles in a separate room, staring at a large screen. I slowed, treading lightly into the room.

“Surprised to see you back here so soon Alice,” Charles said, his eyes never leaving the screen. I walked closer, seeing that it was showing what was going on inside the training room.

It was the same setup as my simulation, replicated perfectly all the way down to the burning cars and demolished buildings. I watched as Bobby, Rogue, and Kitty ran around trying to avoid the Sentinel, Jean and Scott working together to lead it off somewhere. Storm stood off to the side, her eyes pure white. It was interesting to watch them all truly fight together, although a certain someone seemed to be missing.

“Does Logan practice with them?” I asked, just as glued to the screen as Charles was. He nodded.

“Yes… don’t you see him?”

I looked closer, surveying the floor of the simulation. I became vaguely aware of the computer screen to my right that read off the heartbeats of the eight people in the room, and I curiously wondered about what my heartbeat must have read. A glint of metal behind a burning car caused my attention to flash to Peter, an extremely tall boy who I had seen with Bobby and Rogue occasionally, his entire body made of metal. Yet, I still couldn’t find Logan.

“Look higher Alice,” Charles said, nodding to the screen. I did as he said and let out a low breath. Logan rode on the Sentinel’s shoulder, his claws dug into a slight chink of the armor on the machines neck. He wore a hellish grin, enjoying every moment. The group worked together, at least for the most part. It wasn’t very hard to tell that Logan took the spotlight often, more so out of impatience than actual ego. 

“Found him,” I mumbled, glancing at the time. They’d been in battle for twelve minutes and I remembered how I had told Jean fifteen. “Charles?”

“Yes dear?”

“Has anyone ever seen one of these things in real life?”

Charles held his breath for a moment before he spoke. “Just Logan, my dear. I saw a prototype once, when I was young, but Logan remembers them as they were in their prime. Then one day, he forgot everything about them. It was years later before he woke up one morning, everything foreign to him. That was when we finally built this room, forever preparing for a threat that could come at any moment.”

I could feel that there was so much more beneath the surface of what Charles was telling me, but I didn’t get the chance to press. The group finally succeeded in decapitating the Sentinel, it’s massive head flying across the simulated parking lot. A cheer of victory arose and the teenagers jumped amongst each other as the adults gathered, discussing the fight. The parking lot melted away, showing the room as it really was, just an empty space. 

Charles wheeled backwards, a satisfied smile on his face as he went to go meet the victorious team. I followed behind, determination growing. I  _ wasn’t  _ going to be a weak link in this group. I wasn’t going to allow it.

“Wonderful job Storm,” Charles congratulated, beginning a conversation with the spunky white haired woman. Jean and Scott joined in, throwing in concerns and worries here and there. I walked backwards, inspecting the room, wondering what made it work. 

“Jean said you beat the Sentinel in nine minutes,” Logan walked up beside me, his breath even. I nodded absently, thinking about faster ways to kill it. 

“Yeah,” I breathed. No weak links. 

“How’d you do it?”

My breathing hitched, and I cursed myself.  _ No weak links. _

“Stones.”

“What?”

I turned away from Logan, and stomped to where Storm and Jean were walking out of the room. They talked, laughs on their lips. 

“Jean!” I yelled, causing the redhead to turn around.

“Oh hey Alice!” She said, throwing me a smile. I stopped, tapping my foot impatiently.

“I need to do it again. Another fifteen minutes. Please.” I demanded, our eyes locked.

“But-- you just--”

“I know I just woke up not long ago from the last one. Yes, I know I passed out for two days. This time just leave me in here. Let me pass out, but don’t get Gen. Just give me another fifteen minutes.” My body was tense, my voice clipped. Storm looked at me, worry swimming in her eyes.

“Well…” Jean hesitated and I listened as Charles’s wheelchair pulled up near me. 

“She’s convinced Jean. It would do no good to hold her back now,” he said simply, continuing on out the door. The teenagers followed behind him, a few with cuts and bruises on their bodies. 

“Please,” I pleaded, watching as Jean wrestled with herself. Her head bobbed back and forth, no, yes, no… yes.

“Fine.”

The hours blurred together. The blood soaked clothes, the splitting headaches, the endless fighting. The first fight had me sick as hell, my stomach sliced open, my head feeling as if it were being crushed. I vaguely remember Jean running in and asking how I was doing. Again.

Again, again,  _ again. _

If I fought too hard, I slept in the training room, the cold floor not bothersome at all. Storm would come in every couple of hours, forcing me to eat something, even if it was a granola bar. I worked out every little piece of the Sentinel, switched through almost every power I had acquired over the past century, battled until I could hardly breathe. Nights passed and suns rose, my persistence a blazing forest fire. 

“Alice,” Jean’s voice broke through the empty room, blood dripping from my hair. It had almost been dyed red from the crimson liquid, my arms bruised. My body shook, both out of weakness and adrenaline. I grasped a knife in my hand, it’s blade covered in a spray of ash. 

“What,” I growled, my mind still overly active. I wasn’t calm yet, and I held up my hand to Jean. She stopped, her last step echoing around the room. 

“You’re… well… that last fight took four minutes…” 

“And?”

“And I counted. You switched twelve times with no hitch…” Her voice repeated itself, bouncing off of the walls. I closed my eyes, letting out a deep breath that I didn’t know I had been holding. 

“Good.” My breathing slowed, my body healing itself. “Thank you, Jean.” 

Back to normal… no weak links. I flashed Jean a smile as I walked out, about to treat myself to a much needed shower. It was almost midnight, the mansion predominantly quiet. The water ran down my skin, washing the blood from my body. It was warm and refreshing as I scrubbed my hair, trying to clean it off the past few days’ fights. I went to my room and put on a fresh t-shirt and shorts. I brushed out my hair, watching as my body healed the last little bit of discoloration in my face.

“Victor,” I muttered, my voice low. “You had better be smart enough to talk to me alone…”

The story would go that I was going to visit an old friend… and in all technicality, I was. Just a talk… just to see what more was going on that I didn’t know about. If anyone were to say something, it’d be Victor, and it would be to me. He thought he was smart, oh so smart, but honestly, he was so easy to manipulate. 

A knock from my door pulled me from my plan and I frowned. It was almost one in the morning. I strode over to the door, opening it slightly. It was Logan.

I opened it wider, his large frame towering over mine as he leaned against the doorway, a slight sway in his stance. He exhaled and I could vaguely smell the alcohol that accompanied it, his eyes almost glazed over. 

“Lo--” My words were cut off as he leaned forward, his lips crashing into mine. They were rough, the stubble on his chin scraping my own. My eyes widened as he planted his hands onto my hips, pushing me farther into the room. I pulled back, my breathing shorter than normal, our foreheads touching. 

“It’s not you,” he whispered, his eyes down. I had my hands pressed against his chest, my back against the wall. He was different. Different than before. I wasn’t sure if I liked it. 

“It’s Alice,” I murmured, knowing exactly who he wanted. I knew it wasn’t me. It tore open my heart, the pain unfathomable. Logan laid his head on my shoulder, his arms wrapping around my torso. He lifted me slightly off the floor, my toes barely keeping me balanced. I rested my arms on his shoulders, my fingers running themselves through his hair. 

I felt the wetness on my shoulder as Logan’s tears began to soak my shirt. Tears brimmed in my own eyes, his touch driving me farther and farther into my hatred towards Victor who took him away from me. 

“Tell me something,” Logan’s voice was broken and cracked, beaten. The alcohol was showing a side of him that only appeared on dark nights, when even the nightmares couldn’t be bothered to try. “How do you love someone who will never love you back?”

The words were a knife driven into my heart, a single tear streaming down my face. “You just do…” I whispered, my voice quivering. 

“You look in the face of someone who once loved you everyday, you see a stranger where you once had a home, and you love someone who will never love you back, because we are creatures that lie to ourselves. We lie that we’ve moved on. But our hearts still ache when we hear their name, our minds spin when we smell their scent… and you keep lying to yourself that they mean nothing to you, when they mean everything.”

My voice cracked with my heart as I whispered the words I had been trying to convince myself with. I pressed my forehead into Logan’s hair, taking in his scent, the softness of his hair. Something that was once mine. 

Something I could never get back, no matter how hard I tried. 

There we stood, in this embrace of sorts, silent tears splashing the floor. Logan pressed harder into my shoulder before dropping his arms, the emotion gone. I stared at the shell of a man, a reflection of myself the night Victor lied. Without a word, Logan walked out and returned to his room, swaying with every step.

I closed the door, my hand pressing on the wood. Sadness manifested itself into anger and I closed my eyes. 

Victor was going to pay for what he had done, and tomorrow night was when I was going to collect.

\--

“Jean… Charles… I’ll only be gone for a day or so. Just need to talk to an old friend, her daughter is graduating in a couple days. I promised I would be there,” I explained, the back of my head concentrated on keeping Charles’ power intact. I didn’t need him all up in my brain the moment I start lying.

“You’re going to start teaching the kids soon,” Jean tried reaching out for things to make me stay, but anger fueled me. There was no stopping me.

“And I’ll be back in a blink. I promise,” I swore, grabbing her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Charles stared at me, at the duffle bag at my feet.

“Take care of yourself,” he simply said, worry in his eyes. He knew I was blocking him out, knew I was up to no good. 

“I will.”

I dashed to the garage where Scott stored a majority of his toys, save for the alcohol apparently. Off to the right was my baby, the only car I had owned since it rolled off of the assembly line. A 1967 GT Mustang, not completely vintage… I had added some new speakers here, replaced a transmission there. No matter… it had been a companion of mine for the last three and a half decades. I tossed my bag in the trunk and sat in the driver's seat, my hand gripped the ever familiar steering wheel. 

After rolling the window down, I sighed, thinking about where I was going to go. If I  _ really  _ wanted to do this. 

“Told ya’ he got ‘round Spitfire,” Remy’s hand rested on the door of my car, his hair wisping around his face. A grin adorned his mouth as he leaned forward. I let out a groan, realizing he must have seen Logan enter my room last night. 

“You did tell me... now choosing to listen, that's another story,” I replied, hand reaching for the ignition. 

“Where ya’ headed? Can’t be taking off now, so soon after ya’ finally got what ya’ wanted?” 

I closed my eyes, refusing to look at the man standing next to me. “I didn't get what I wanted.”

The car roared to life and I threw it into reverse, caring less about if I hit Remy or not. He took a few steps backward to avoid me, a careful grin on his face. I drove out of the garage and carried on my way, music blaring through the speakers. 

Driving was always a favorite of mine when the three of us could finally afford a vehicle. It was interesting, the way I had gotten along with the brothers… not so much as another sibling, but as a companion. I had been the maid's daughter, occasionally playing with James and Victor when James was healthy enough. I was to keep James entertained when Victor wasn't around, and we got along well. Everyone knew that once James got older and took head of the house, Victor and I were to marry and resume the jobs that our parents held.

_ My mother patted me on the head, worry etched into her face. Her hair was greying at the roots, her black uniform perfectly unwrinkled.  _

_ “Alice dear, take this to the master’s son. He needs it,” she told me, handing me the glass of chilled water. Her voice was thick, her origins of Britain shining through her words. It was similar to mine, a great pride that I held high. I nodded, twirling around, the moon shining through the kitchen windows. James had fallen ill again, bedridden and sick. My mother disappeared, attending to another matter in the house. I didn’t see her often, perhaps two times a day if I were lucky.  _

_ I reached the kitchen door and pulled, carefully trying not to spill the water. Just as I stepped through, a loud noise filled the house, causing my head to split from pain. I fell to my knees, the water forgotten, panic spreading through my mind. Mistress Howlett’s scream filled the dead space, everyone in the entrance of the house quiet. I crouched next to Mr. Logan, the gardener and Victor’s father, a gun in his hand. Mistress Howlett stood next to him, her arm in his other hand.  _

_ Across the room laid James’s father, Master Howlett, blood pooling around him. I hazily connected the gun to the dying man on the floor and I crawled away from Mr. Logan, fear flooding my soul. As I curled up in the corner, the image of Master Howlett’s body burning into my mind, I noticed Victor backing up to the front door. There was such fear in his eyes, knowing what the drunken man was fully capable of.  _

_ I didn't dare speak, the shock taking my voice from me. A flash of red appeared at the top of the stairs and James voice cut through the stunned silence. I watched, every movement slow as time itself began to halt.  _

_ “Father!” James dashed to his father's side, paying no attention to the man wielding the gun. He grasped his jacket, pulling him closer. Victor glanced at me, a silent warning to keep to myself and not draw attention. Master Howlett reached up and grabbed James’ robe. _

_ “James…” _

_ Mistress Howlett let out a moan of agony, the ‘no’ escaping her lips. Mr. Logan called out to the distraught boy, his words a double edged sword. _

_ “James.” This time the name was different. Not said out of love, but out of caution. James glared at him, rage in his eyes, nothing like I had ever seen before. Victor watched on, a spark in his eye. “There are things you don’t understand.” _

_ I exhaled, stress keeping me intact. Mistress Howlett struggled in Mr. Logan’s arms, pleas keeping her talking at all. _

_ “Don’t… don’t!” She repeated, her eyes flashing between James and Mr. Logan. He ignored her, his gaze fused on the young boy.  _

_ “I need him to know!” Mr. Logan yelled, his glance momentarily jumping to the woman in his hand.  _

_ “Please don’t!” _

_ “No more lies Elizabeth!” _

_ I watched as James’s breathing quickened, anger beginning to fuel his body. His hands were in fists, but something was different. We all watched in horror as bone began to grow between James’ knuckles, three sharp edges more gruesome than anything I had ever seen. Victor’s eyes widened as he glanced at his own hands which were clawed like a wolf’s.  _

_ James erupted into a scream, his eyes meeting the ceiling. I curled farther into my corner, a fascination and fear in my mind. With a fearsome scowl, James stood, his scream never stopping as he ran towards Mr. Logan with a sinister fury. The gardener raised his gun, the barrel starring James down.  _

_ No. _

_ I sprung up, throwing my entire body at the bare metal of the gun, the shot sending a shock down to my bones. I slid across the floor, the gun sliding next to me as James continued to scream. I got my wits about me just in time to see James pierce Mr. Logan’s torso, the force driving the man into the door.  _

_ “James!” Mistress Howlett let out a cry. Mr. Logan focused on James, pain lacing his features. I laid there, terror keeping me in place. I could feel Victor’s hand as he grabbed my shoulder, trying to help me sit up. _

_ “Alice… Alice…” he repeated over and over again, his arms wrapping around my small frame. I shook, the movement enough to keep one warm for a thousand winters, although I couldn’t warm the chill that had overtaken my heart. Victor managed to get me to stand, my body weak. _

_ Mr. Logan rested his hands on James’ shoulders, his knuckles turning white. The two glared at each other, one out of anger, the other out of disappointment. _

_ “He… he wasn’t your father,” Mr. Logan choked, and James turned his head to look at Mistress Howlett, shame crossing like a shadow on her face. Victor pulled at my waist, trying to get me to move. I was frozen. _

_ “...son…” _

_ The words were a mere breath, the final one that Mr. Logan took as James took a step back, disbelief in his eyes. Mistress Howlett’s attitude toward her son turned from care to disgust. _

_ “What are you?” she asked, and Victor pulled even harder on my arms and side. I took a microscopic step, my eyes refusing to be torn from the scene in front of me. _

_ James said nothing as he took off barefooted out the door. Victor let out a sigh and leaned into me, his breath hot on my ear.  _

_ “There’s no place for us here.” He grabbed my hand and ran after James, my feet hardly touching the ground. Us? We zig-zagged through the woods and I missed hitting the trees by a hair's width. Victor kept his eyes trained on James blood red robe in the black forest, and eventually let go of me. I kept running, finally able to move on my own again, and Victor tackled James, the two coasting on the leaves for a moment. James got up, his hands in fists in front of him.  _

_ “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t mean it!” I heard James scream, defense in his voice. Victor held up his hands, sparing a glance at me behind him.  _

_ “Yes you did!” I heard Victor yell back. I stared as Victor carefully put his hands on James shoulders, his mouth moving. I was too far away to hear anything they said, but I inched closer, the dark closing in.  _

_ Victor turned around to face me, his hand held out. I dashed forward, no hesitance in the motion as I placed my hand in his. There was a determination in his face that I hadn’t seen before, a protection and responsibility that only existed in adults.  _

_ “We stick together, we let nothing stand in our way,” he said, James and I nodding. Men’s voices could be heard behind us and Victor’s breathing quickened. “Run! Keep on running and don’t look back.” _

I sat in the parking lot of a combined KFC and Taco Bell, my car long since turned off. The sun was beginning to set as I watched family after family walk in and out of the restaurant. It was a tiny town, consisting of maybe 3,000 people, tops. I knew that sooner or later, Victor would show up. 

I had made myself look like Genevieve, my hair now shorter and platinum blonde, my skin pale. If anything would make Victor come out, it would be this. At least that’s what I assumed. It made him come out in New Orleans. 

The outskirts of Pagosa, the farthest point from the tourist attractions, the farthest point from a lot of people potentially getting hurt. My fingers drummed on the steering wheel, the sky getting darker. With each passing minute, the prospect of eating Taco Bell looked that much better. Sadly, Taco Bell wasn’t happening tonight. 

The sun finally set, darkness casting shadows in every corner. Perfect. I got out of the car, my knife tucked safely in my waistband. I walked to the end of the building, the alleyway casting just enough shadow for me to comfortably stand in darkness. 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… Alice… you should know better than this,” Victor’s voice growled from the corner, and I watched his shadow materialize. The initial shock ran through my body, the fear silencing itself. He knew I wasn’t Gen, but as to how, I had no idea. 

“Why…” I whispered, ignoring his initial words. I felt the ripple as I resumed my normal form, Gen’s figure gone as quickly as it came. Victor stepped forward, half of his face now in the moonlight. 

“Because we’re the superior race… we shouldn't live in the dark like we do. Shouldn't have to hide ourselves,” Victor began, hatred lacing his words. It sent a shiver down my spine, a reminder of how much he hated normal people. War had turned him. Logan and I should have known that feeding Victor’s thirst for violence would result in this… but we only thought of the protective figure that tried to guard us from the world. 

“Only some live in the dark,” I said, my voice low. I forced my body into a faux calm, keeping my hands from balling into fists. Victor shook his head slowly.

“Cage fighting? Joining the army as a man? What a light you live in.” My heart skipped a painful beat as Victor made me eat my words. His eyebrow twitched as he settled into a more comfortable stance, although I still knew he was on guard. 

“Why are you helping him, Victor?” I asked, shifting my weight. 

“Tsk, tsk. Alice, you know me better than that. I don't  _ help  _ anyone. I've got my plans, he’s got his. Ours just happen to coincide,” Victor threw me a wolfish grin and I swallowed the panic that kept trying to rise. 

“And where does Genevieve fit into all of this?” 

Victor let out a low laugh, the kind that made you want to run in the other direction. The laugh of a man who knew he had absolutely nothing to lose. 

“She's quite the little burst of power. Suppressed in a prison like that? She's capable of  _ so _ much more,” Victor took a step forward and in return, I took a microscopic one back. 

“And you think you’re going to boost her farther into her true potential? Just like you did with me?” This was a personal matter. I didn't come because Charles or Jean or Storm sent me. I came because I needed to know what Victor had planned this time. 

“The things we do out of love,” Victor said, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Someone who did the things you did isn’t capable of love,” I growled, my hand reaching for the knife in my belt.

“Alice, we both know you have three of those for each hand…” Victor mumbled in return, the claws growing on his hands. He was no different than a Sentinel, if anything, easier to fight. 

“The siren,” I called out, stopping Victor in his tracks. There it was. “She wasn’t always like that was she.”

Victor tilted his head, the tell-tale sign that he was trying to decipher how I knew. “What do you know of her?”

“Enough,” I replied. That was a bluff. I knew close to nothing.

“Humans think us to be the monsters until they are one. She was just an experiment. Expendable.”

“Like Wade was? Like I was?” He had yet to call my move, and I wasn’t about to give him the higher ground. Emotions… that’s what I had so close to my reach. I could feel it.

“You were never expendable Alice,” his voice was ever so slightly softer, just enough to make you think he had a heart. 

“Perhaps not expendable, but just important enough to torment… am I wrong?” I adjusted my stance, every muscle poised to move. Rain began to fall, plastering my hair to my face. Lightning… all I need is lightning. 

“All sorts,  _ Lissie _ .”

Don’t. No. Don’t let him get away with it. My heartbeat skipped around, trying to run away even if the rest of my body didn’t. There was no way I was going to give him that much power over me. No. Goddamn. Way.

“ _ Sometimes… memories are the worst form of torture _ .” The words slipped out of my voice like poison. Victor froze, his power play wavering. He was drenched, his coat sticking to his body. His eyes flashed left and right before landing on me again. 

Lightning flashed off in the distance, thunder rumbling seconds after.  _ Perfect. _

“Alice.”


	10. Chapter 10

I was gone. The only trace I had been there was the second of dry concrete I had been standing on. My car roared to life as I sped away from the Taco Bell and KFC love child, my mind flying through all of the ways humans held a genetic mutation, but never experienced something harsh enough to cause it to manifest. 

Funny thing was, I never knew what caused my ability to come about. Maybe the death of my father when I was eight… maybe the scream I had heard the night we left the Howlett household. It was no matter now. I was fifty mutants in one, all the less normal with each copy.

But to force a mutation to manifest? That was rare. Unheard of… almost. The question that prodded at my mind the most though, was  _ why _ ?

I drove an hour or so until I was a careful distance between Pagosa and myself, parking in the pothole ridden parking lot of a less-than-comforting motel. Slapping my backpack over my soaking wet back, I walked into the lobby, casting a wary glare at the sleazy looking guy behind the front desk. 

“One room please,” I sighed, grabbing a hundred from my pocket. Sixty years interest on a person who’s probably dead and you’re their only surviving family? Easy way to make some cash. Especially when you’re both the dead person and survivor. 

The guy glared at me, a groan leaving his chapped as hell lips. His breath was putrid, as if he hadn’t seen anything near water for years, much less soap or toothpaste. His name tag read Chuck and his teeth read meth addict. 

“This late?” He moaned, glancing at the clock behind me that read 3:12 A.M. “Might as well pay for a quarter of the night.”

“Wonderful,” I responded, the sarcasm a whip. “So how much will that be?”

“I wasn’t being serious. 98 dollars.” He held out his hand, his fingernails bitten down to the bed. I slapped the hundred in his hand, careful not to touch any skin. Sure, I may have spent years in Vietnam where there were unclean men everywhere, but this guy was different. 

“Careful not to joke about such matters,” I mumbled, exhaustion setting in. In return for the money, the counter clerk tossed my a key, the tag reading 14. I nodded, holding up the key as a word of thanks. 

Upon walking into the room, I honestly wished I had just slept in the car. The carpet could hardly be called carpet, and the bed wasn’t even made. I took a step backwards and looked around at the empty parking lot, just making sure I had, in fact, made it to my own room. I tossed my bag on the chair, judging it was a solid two feet away from the ‘carpet’, a safe enough distance. 

Who gave a shit that the bed wasn’t made? Who gave a shit that I barely locked the door upon entering? Who gave a shit about the rat that skirted along the floor from behind the tv stand to the bathroom? It sure as hell wasn’t me as I collapsed onto the musty smelling bed, making a silent note to myself to never take my bed at the school for granted ever again. 

_ Every muscle in my body ached, my wrists bloody. Four walls of solid concrete surrounded me, save for the door directly in front of me. My breath was labored, as it had been ever since I woke up underwater. I stared as the door hinges groaned, the lock sliding away from its home.  _

_ The door swung open, the chains around my wrists preventing me from dashing out at the first sight of fluorescent lights. In the doorway stood Logan, a scowl on his face. I stared blankly at him, my face void of emotion. _

_ “Look, I can play that game too,” I exhaled, my body shifting to create a physical replica of my former lover. The cuffs around my wrists cut deeper and I switched back, wanting any sort of relief I could get. The Logan in front of me transformed, a blue woman with fiery red hair standing in his place.  _

_ “Victor wants you,” she said, her voice harsh. I’d long since passed the point of panic or care, the only thing I felt anymore was the pain from my bones.  _

_ “Old news, next,” I called, my own voice weak. That’s all I was anymore. Weak, tired, exhausted. There’s only so many fires you can survive, so many frostbites your body combats before you give up. Too bad my body worked so hard to survive… if it were up to me, I’d have been dead three weeks ago.  _

_ Mystique rolled her eyes and walked forward, shoving my hands against the wall. She unclasped my wrists and I let them fall. She didn’t bother with security anymore, I’d stopped trying to run away long before.  _

_ “Mystique, Stryker wants you. I’ve got her.” Victor’s voice echoed through the small room and the yellow eyed woman in front of me groaned, anger and impatience flashing across her face. _

_ “You should have had her before I got here. What a waste of my time.” She stormed out, leaving my former friend standing in the doorway. I blinked slowly at Victor, the slightest bit of loathing sparking in my heart. It wasn’t enough though, to spark me to do something.  _

_ He took a step forward, his eyes full of darkness. Nothing new. I sat there, limp as a noodle. Victor crouched in front of me, his hand caressing my face. He pulled his hand back, dry blood speckling his fingers. I sighed emptily as I looked at the bloody flakes, not even able to remember where they came from.  _

_ “Lissie… how stunning you look,” he grinned, snaking an arm underneath my legs and the other behind my back, lifting me bridal style. I was limp in his arms, my arm swaying at my side with each step. My head lolled back, Victor being oddly careful to not to let it hit the doorway. His scent was so close to Logan’s but so much worse. It was hinted with anger and betrayal, not like the love and patience that was Logan.  _

_ I gazed blankly at the lights above me, as they got brighter and darker, brighter and darker. From what I could tell, Victor seemed to be in particularly pissed off mood.  _

_ “Damn brother of mine survived it as well,” I heard him say as he opened up a door, revealing a bed inside. A bed. Hell of a long time since I last saw one of those. _

_ “What? Another one of your bitch ass attitude fights?” I mumbled as he set me down, harsher than normal. I suspected it was because of my comment. I didn’t care much though, I was too busy indulging myself in the comfort the the sheets around me.  _

_ “No,” Victor replied, his voice low. Something about this was off. Normally I was placed in a single room, with wires attached or flames licking at my feet. Never had a bed fit into the equation. _

_ “Then what?” I asked, tilting my head almost drunkenly. My bones still ached, the metal that encased them an operation against my will. Nothing quite like being dead for a solid hour as your body works to catch up with the trauma.  _

_ “He survived. Apparently I wouldn’t,” Victor growled, anger mixing with something else… something I hadn’t quite placed yet. _

_ “I died asshole… I still don’t know how you call that ‘surviving’.” I commented, arms splayed out on either side of me. Victor strode over to me, his eyes darker than I had seen them before. He grabbed at my raw wrist and pushed it against the headboard, bending the decorative metal around my hand.  _

_ Hell if this was an upgrade from my cold concrete cradle, I had no objections. It wasn’t. _

_ Victor did the same thing with my other hand, the door to the room closed. I stared at his eyes, the way they became jumpy and lazy at the same time, an odd behavior I hadn’t seen in years. Suddenly, I was able to place what I saw. It wasn’t just anger. It was lust, jealousy, and betrayal in some freak cocktail mix. _

_ “They said I wouldn’t survive… they say I’m not capable of much more… that Jimmy boy can do better. I’ll show them. If I can’t be what they want, I can make exactly what they want,” Victor spoke as he tugged at my worn sweatpants. For the first time in weeks, emotion flooded back into my mind. My life may have been taken from me, my love lost, but I sure as hell wasn’t about to lose my dignity. _

_ “Victor, no,” I squirmed, wriggling my hands this way and that, trying to loosen the hold of the metal around my wrists. He let out a low laugh, the lust overtaking his body. Panic grew as I realized what was going on, and the helplessness as I found I couldn’t prevent it.  _

_ “What stronger being do they want, than one that can replicate any mutation while simultaneously always being able to heal itself?” Victor ripped at my shirt, his claws growing. My breathing quickened as my alarm increased, slight screams escaping my lips.  _

_ “Stop this Victor,” I yelped, tears beginning to form in my eyes. The last mutation I switched into came back, my hair changing lengths, my skin flashing different colors. Maybe if I didn’t look myself, maybe he wouldn’t be so convinced. _

_ He continued, my physical appearance meaning nothing as he tore away my shirt, his hands moving back down to my pants. Tears streamed down my face he sliced through the worn material, only my bra and underwear keeping me covered. I kicked, every movement a burn as my body still had yet to heal. Victor licked his lips, his eyes flashing back up to my face. I screamed, my entire body thrusting this way and that, trying desperately to get away. Just away.  _

_ “STOP!” My throat stripped itself bare, blood flowing from my wrists, running down my arms. It stained the now blonde hair that fell down my shoulders, my skin almost translucent. Victor could have cared less. _

_ “Victor!” It wasn’t my voice that screamed his name, but one full of malice and hatred, one that was seeking revenge. The door flew open and there stood Logan, his hair as wild as the look in his eyes as he scanned the room, taking in the scene in front of him. There was no recognition as he looked at me, nothing but regard as a victim. Victor turned around, his teeth bared. Logan’s claws reflected what little light filled the room, bright and metallic.  _

_ “Little brother, always getting in the way of things,” he growled as Logan pounced, the two tumbling around the room and eventually out the door.  _

I opened my eyes, daylight streaming in between the broken blinds. The fan above me turned precariously, threatening to fall at any moment. I sighed, my hands laid across my stomach, the stale smell of cigarette smoke filling my nose. 

My hair flowed about me, some sticking to my face from the cold sweat I’d woken from. Something wasn’t right. I stared at the ceiling, not moving from where I laid. The shadow of the fan flipped on the ceiling, but there was another shadow that danced with it… one that I wasn’t making. 

“Why are you in my room?” I growled, my eyes fixated on the yellowed ceiling. The shadow paused and I judged it was a few feet to my right. Silence.

“An answer might let you live dumbass,” I grumbled, sitting up. I gazed around the musty room, ready for my eyes to settle on the greasy haired meth addict that had given me my room. Except they never did. 

The room was entirely empty, save for the small fact that my backpack went from the chair to the floor, the main compartment open. I frowned, eyes flashing to the locked door in the corner. What shadow had been moving? Or was I just going insane…

“Jesus, I need a break,” I sighed to myself as I shook my head, my hair falling around me. My mouth tasted bad, the overnight spit making my tongue feel thick. I rubbed my eyes, allowing a yawn to escape. Time for the trip back to Xavier’s School… plenty of time to think through what Victor and Magneto were up to.

I slouched in the driver's seat of my car, the engine idling. Was it some sort of serum they used to enhance a human’s mutated gene, or did they put them through a bunch of traumatic experiences until something happened? I let the thoughts run through my mind, getting into a tussle here and there, flying left and right. I drove away from the trashy hotel and along the open roads, my windows down, my hair flying around fast enough to sting my face slightly. It was nice to be reminded that the earth was still beautiful in some places, even if the people sometimes sucked.


	11. Chapter 11

I pulled up to the mansion, smiling softly as I watched Storm herd in the kids for the night, the sun beginning to set. It caused me to ponder the idea if Storm could cause the sun to slow in its set, or if she could simply control the weather. Hell, if she could, that would make for a pretty nice date. 

I got out of my mustang, bidding a nod to Rogue and Bobby who stood on the porch, leaning against the railing. They both waved, a careless motion, the sign of an easy day. I trotted up the steps, my backpack bouncing lightly on my back. I wasn’t in the mansion longer than two minutes before Jean ran up and hugged me, an odd friendship having formed between the two of us when I brought up my strength. 

“Oh Alice! You’re back!” She exclaimed, holding me at an arm's length, her hands on my shoulders. Her fiery red hair was tangled into a messy bun, glasses perched on the tip of her nose. 

“I told you I’d back in a blink,” I chuckled, casting her a grin as we walked together to my room. Jean talked about how Gen wasn’t seeing many kids and how Remy had wandered the halls when I was gone. We made it to my room and I tossed my backpack onto my bed, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Where did you go?” Jean finally asked, her head tilted slightly to the side. I shrugged, glancing to my left. 

“Went and visited an old friend. I didn’t stay for the graduation though, god knows I can’t sit in one place for very long.” The lie flowed from between my teeth, curling around my tongue before leaving my mouth. Jean’s eyes narrowed for a small moment before she returned to her oddly bubbly attitude. 

“That’s so kind of you! Not many of us have friends that are normal, you know. Cherish them… they’re a rarity.” 

I nodded, Rush’s face flashing across my face. “Yeah, I know. I’m not leaving them anytime soon.”

Jean bobbed her head, Scott appearing down the hallway. He looked a little worse for wear, his shoulders slumped. He tipped his head, a greeting to me, and a kiss to Jean.

“There you are… I was looking all over,” he sighed, a yawn causing his whole body to stretch. 

“What’s wrong?” Jean asked, her hand on his arm. He shrugged, letting his head tilt back.

“Nothing’s wrong… just rough day with the kids. They’re asking questions about everything that’s going on. Gen hasn’t been around lately to send off her happy thoughts or whatever you want to call them. Makes the kids overly curious, which makes my job that much harder,” Scott mumbled, his hand resting on Jean’s. She smiled at him lovingly, giving him a soft nudge. 

“Sound’s like bed for you, Mister,” she joked, allowing her hand to fall. Scott vaguely nodded and turned back around, disappearing behind a door. Jean returned her attention to me, the shadow of a grin on her face. “Anyway… you need a shower in all honesty. I don’t think you took one while on your little side trip.”

“You’re right. A shower does sound pretty night right about now,” I agreed, bidding Jean a farewell. Storm trudged up the stairs, her hair especially ruffled. She and Jean began a conversation as I closed the door to my room.

I didn’t realize how wonderful my unmade bed was until I had to spend a night in that motel. Stripping myself of my clothes, I knocked on the bathroom door, my pajamas a pile in my arms. With the satisfaction of no reply, I hopped into the shower, the water soothingly warm. Incidentally, I forgot to lock the door to Logan’s room.

“Shower’s occupied,” I called out upon hearing a door open and close. I could hear Logan’s grunt in reply as he placed something on the counter. I generally ignored what he was doing as I washed my hair and body, deciding to dress in the shower once I was dry enough. 

“You really like her don’t you?” I said over the running water, figuring that small talk was better than awkward silence. There was something different about being so close to someone who couldn’t even remember you name and having to recreate the bond that was once there. 

“What?” He didn’t sound annoyed, at least not yet.

“Jean. You’re really head over heels for her aren’t you?” I shut off the water, grabbing a towel from the rack next to me. My words were nonchalant, just as my actions were. I couldn’t see him yet, but I listened as Logan let out a low groan.

“It’s not like that,” he sighed. I scoffed, allowing myself to indulge in this little bit of gossip, even if I did know the entire answer. Next I grabbed my clothes, carefully stepping into my shorts, not wanting that awful damp feeling. 

“So then what’s it like?” I asked, tossing on my shirt. It was an older one, at least twenty years old, but it was a favorite of mine. I was going to wear it until the day it gave out on me.

“It’s nothing,” he dismissed. Oh, I wasn’t about to be put off that easily. I threw the shower curtain open, my eyes meeting Logan’s in the mirror. He was shirtless, shaving cream on his face. I glanced at the dog tags hanging from his neck, thinking of my own.

“So I’m going to assume the other night was  _ nothing _ ?” I raised an eyebrow, a sly grin growing on my face. Logan glared at me through the mirror before returning to his task. I sauntered to my half of the counter and sat, watching as he carefully guided the blade over his jaw. “Oh, now you’re going to ignore me?”

“No,” he said, his mouth taut. I swung my legs faintly, not letting them hit the cabinets beneath me. “I’m just not going to answer questions that have obvious answers.”

I laughed and rolled my eyes, facing forward. Logan rinsed the blade, the muscles in his shoulder rippling slightly. I remembered the first time Victor was teaching him to shave, the way Logan had walked out of the bathroom with cuts all over. It probably would have been more amusing, but the scrapes had healed quickly. I smiled at the thought of the memory, my mind becoming careless.

“Remember that one time when--” I stopped abruptly, my heart pounding. My eyes were wide, my body stiff, and Logan paused, his eyes flickering to me before going back to the mirror. 

“What?” His voice was low and panic began to swell in my chest, a thousand different lies flying through my head. 

“Ugh. It wasn’t you I was thinking about, but someone else. Funny story though,” I attempted to save, reverting my mind to when Rush and I had a contest of who could eat the most burgers. Logan bounced his head microscopically left and right before rolling his eyes and continuing with his shaving. I let out a low breath, silently scolding myself for being so stupid. 

“Why did you come here?” Logan asked, the tiniest bit of curiosity in the statement. I frowned, turning my head to face him fully.

“Because I needed a shower..?”

“No, not that. Why did you come to the school?” Logan’s dark eyes met mine and I smothered any urge to kiss him then and there. No, this wasn’t like old times, when something like that would be welcome. This was now, and now would get me nowhere.

“I needed something… something to hold onto,” I sighed, tearing my eyes away from his. Water splashed at my thigh as Logan rinsed his face, the suds from the shaving cream floating in the sink. He patted his face with a towel before packing away the shaving blade. 

“And that’s it?” Logan stood to his full height and I leaned back against the mirror. 

“Do I need anything more?” I raised an eyebrow, challenging him to press. Oddly enough, he did. 

“No you don’t… hell, I’m here for a whole lot less,” Logan sighed, leaning a hip against the counter, his arms crossing in front of his chest. The scent of his aftershave floated around the room, both rugged and nice at the same time. “But what made you stay?”

_ You. _

“The bed.”

“What?” He seemed taken aback, as if a bed were the last thing on his mind. I shrugged, thinking back on the cot I had been sleeping on the past two years. Sure, cage fighting satisfied the hunger for a good fight, but it sure didn’t pay the bills. At least, not any bills that I wanted to pay.

“The bed. It’s nice. You came on a whole lot less, but you’re still here… you like the bed too? Or did Jean make you stay?” I mouth twitched at the corner, a smile wanting to say hi to the world. Logan stared at me for a moment, a deadpan expression on his face. It made me laugh.

“A promise. That’s what’s keeping me here,” he said. I tilted my head, surprised that he was being so direct.  _ You’re sticking around because of a promise? Bastard, you promised me a wedding night, and instead I get a photo of you moving on with your life with some school teacher. _ My finger traced the ring on my hand.

“And had this promise been fulfilled yet?” I prodded, my head bobbing side to side. Logan shook his head, his thumb running over the knuckles of his other hand.

“Not in the way I want.”

The heavy banging against the door to Logan’s bedroom tore us from our conversation, Storm’s voice yelling through the wood. 

“Logan! Wake up!” She screamed, the urgency and concern causing me to follow as Logan rushed through his room to open the door. I hardly noticed the bottles of beer from the other night littering the floor as well as the slightly shredded sheets on his bed. 

“I’m up, I’m up… what’s wrong?” Logan opened the door, Storm’s panicked face appearing. She barely spared me a glance before continuing on.

“It’s Gen! She’s gone… just gone…” I watched as Storm wavered, her emotions battling for control. Anger or distress, vengeance or despair. Something about the way she talked caused my body to tense, the hair on the back of my neck rising. 

“I’ll be right there,” Logan clipped, turning around to grab a shirt. His eyes flashed to me, a bit of worry setting itself upon his face. I rushed past him and grabbed Storm’s arm, seeing if I could get a clear sentence out of her.

“Do you know where she went?” I asked, although I already feared I knew the answer. Storm shook in my hands, and I noticed something black beneath her fingernails.

“It’s everywhere… the children, they need to stay in their rooms.” Storm grabbed my wrist and we took off down the hallway and down the stairs, my bare feet hitting the ground with a slight sting. I could hear Logan not far behind us, his boots pounding against the wood floors. I heard the whispers of the children as the older teenagers struggled to keep them in their rooms, to keep the doors shut.

“Back to bed guys!” I heard Bobby yell as he tried to freeze door handles to doorframes. Rogue comforted a small boy who seemed to be in complete shock at the carnage laid out in front of him. Quite frankly, if I were his age, I’d be in shock too.

Darkness spilled around the main entrance of the school, dripping from walls and pooling in various places on the floor. It was terrifyingly familiar and I remembered the first day I had met Gen, the way she spindled the darkness from my own arm into hers. That darkness was there, in front of me, raw and awful. Scott crouched near a corner, the black liquid on his fingers. His mouth was slightly agape as he stared at the solution, his muscles tensing. It looked like blood, except something about this made it  _ so much worse. _ Jean sprinted from one half of the school to another, panic on her face, Gen’s name on her lips over and over.

I froze, my breath hitching. A smeared handprint on the wall choked me, and the slight wind as Logan ran past me cast a cold shield over my heart. There was too much of this  _ blood _ for it to come from one person… there was no possible way. Perhaps three or four, but god no, not someone the size of Genevieve. Time seemed to slow, Charles’s grim face surveying the scene, Storm running to stop Jean from her hopeless search. Logan touching the blood on his own, anger flashing across his face. 

Nothing about it made sense. She had such a good handle on it… such a good handle on how her power worked when I arrived. She had no concern for failure when helping little Willow… but the bags under her eyes, the fading of her hair… Remy.

She had been fine until New Orleans, until that damned gambler had shown up at her side. I felt the rage ignite in my core, my hearing turning to a ringing in my ears. 

“What’s going on? Kid’s screaming got me all up…” Time picked back up, everything back at full speed. Remy sauntered down the stairs, a blissful arrogance on his face. Smoke may have well been flying from my ears, the fury driving my body. I sprinted up the stairs, grabbing at the collar of Remy’s jacket, red lining my vision. 

“What the fuck did you do! Where is she!” I screamed, my face inches from his. I shoved him into the wall, the thought of throwing him down the stairs dancing across my mind. 

“What?” He slurred, looking around him. The other’s had mostly froze on the lower level, the yells of the children's curiosity echoing. 

I pulled the man forward and slammed him back into the wall, the drywall giving slightly. My body shook from the anger, blood pooling in my mouth from where I had bit my cheek. “Everything was fine until you showed up! What did you do to her! You motherfucker better tell me where she is before I--”

My hand reared back into a fist, the claws sliding out from between my knuckles. My chest heaved, and Remy began to really register what was going on. I could just kill him. Right then and there, and no one would care. New Orleans would have one less devil roaming their streets.

The wind was knocked from my lungs as I flew sideways, my right shoulder hitting the ground hard enough to break any other person's bones. Logan had me pinned on the floor, his own claws inches from my neck, anger flooding his eyes. I screamed and writhed, my hands flying at his face, trying to get him off of me.

“Get the fuck off of me! Logan get off!” I screeched, trying to kick at any flesh I could see. Logan pinned my arms, his knee in my stomach.

“Back off, Alice. It wasn’t Remy, and I’m not about to have you go around killing people. He didn’t do it,” Logan screamed back at me, his cheeks turning red from the rage. Spit flew from both of us as we screamed at each other, one trying to kill, the other trying to stop it from happening. Remy took a step away from the wall, glancing at the pushed in drywall. He rubbed his shoulder, grimacing upon looking at the wall. 

I paused, staring at him, my vision going in and out. He seemed to be struggling with something, but I didn’t care what. He was dead to me. 

“Remy, get your ass out of here! Come back though, once she’s calmed down!” Logan ordered, slamming my wrists back into the floor, trying desperately to get me to stop moving. Remy stared at Logan for a moment before taking off into the night, his coat flying behind him. 

“Why did you say that!” I roared, slamming my head into Logan’s nose, and he momentarily reared back. His grip on my wrists loosened and I ripped them from his grasp, wriggling from underneath him. Logan held a hand over his nose, blood briefly dribbling from between his fingers. 

“Alice!” Charles bellowed from downstairs, the word causing me to stop in my tracks. Something about the way he said it forced my body into a faux calm, a temporary freeze. I huffed, staring at the old man. 

“This solves nothing. And it wasn’t Mr. LeBeau. Yes, he was the last to see her, but he had nothing to do with this,” Charles explained, his voice still strong. I shook my head, unable to believe him, but my anger subsided slightly. “We need to turn our attention to finding Genevieve.”

“I agree,” Jean spoke up, her hand on Scott’s arm, whose jaw was clenched. 

“We need to split up. This stuff goes out the door, out to the forest. She might still be out there,” Scott directed, wasting no time rushing out the door. 

“That is a good idea,” Charles encouraged, wheeling over to Storm, who frowned at the black stuff. “Go on. I’ll watch the kids.”

With that, we all ran out, Storm giving us the light of the moon to see where we needed to go. We sprinted to the edge of the woods and I exhaled, searching for more of the blood. 

“Over here!” Scott called out, the rest of us sprinting after him. We all ran, finding blood here, a dark handprint on a tree there. Bushes and branches scraped and sliced at my legs, the skin on my feet splitting against harsh and unforgiving rocks. The cuts healed as quickly as they came. The pain barely registered, my mind focused on one thing. Find Genevieve. 

Minutes that felt like hours passed, until it turned into hours passing. The sun peaked out from behind hills, and I ran into Logan. There were branches and leaves in his hair, as I’m sure there were plenty in mine. I glared at him as he returned my look, the two of us fighting for intimidation. A thousand different things flew through my head as to what I wanted to say, but to say them now would be worthless, meaningless to someone who remembered nothing. 

“You’re not going to apologize for what you did, and I don’t expect you to. But don’t you dare think to get in my way like that again,” I growled, leaving out the last bit.  _ Because next time I don’t the past could save you from my rage. _

“He didn’t do it,” Logan defended, his words tired. I shook my head microscopically, refusing to believe anything like that. 

“If we find Gen, and I find out he  _ did  _ do it--”

“--I’ll finish him off myself.”

We settled into a tired silence, our bodies sore and weak from looking. A silent truce formed between us, an agreement not to fight as long as I didn’t want to kill Remy.

“We need to head back!” Scott’s voice faintly called through the woods, sounding as tired as I felt. So much happened at night, I hardly had time to catch up with my sleep. It was beginning to take its effect, but I needed Gen back. We all needed her back.

Logan took a step towards me, his hand reaching out and nudging my elbow. We walked back together, his boots stomping out a somewhat softer path for my bare feet. The woods seemed to stretch on forever as we made our way back, Storm joining us along the way.

All of us congregated in Charles office, dirt and leaves on our faces and in our hair. Logan stood between me and the door, for good reason too, as Remy cautiously walked in. He looked more aware this time, perhaps not as drunk. A fire flowed through my veins upon looking at him, but I stayed true to my word to Logan. I wasn’t going to try and kill him… at least not yet.

“Remy. You were the last to see Gen. What happened?” Charles began, motioning for Remy to sit in a chair. He shook his head, instead standing near the door. 

“I was walking the halls, you know, my normal night ritual. Except this time I had a heavy lack of liquor. I saw Gen’s room and I wanted to talk to her… there was this bang though. Like something really hard hit a wall. I rushed in, and there was this hole in the wall and she was lying there,” Remy’s rambling slowed as his face contorted into one of confusion. It was the look one gets when they’re trying to remember a word on the tip of their tongue but can’t quite figure out what it was.

“She… she was… I…” he muttered, shaking his head, his hair flapping left and right. He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to remember what happened. 

“It’s okay… take your time,” Charles comforted, his fingers tapping his wheelchair. 

“I should have… the hole… the wall… she was,” Remy shook his head in frustration, the memory beyond him. I huffed, impatience taking charge.

“Look Charles, I think Remy did something.  _ Something  _ had to have happened in New Orleans. There’s no other way to explain all of this,” I stressed, my arms crossing my chest. Scott nodded on the other side of the room, his face brooding.

“I think he did something too. I don’t know what, but I think something happened.” He mumbled, looking up. Storm shook her head slightly, and Jean frowned.

“I don’t think he did it,” Jean said.

“Let me reiterate. It doesn’t matter now if Remy did anything or not. I do believe this had something to do with Magneto though. He’s gaining momentum, and we need to stop him before he does anything more drastic,” Charles expressed, his hands stilling. “Gen might be with him. As to how or why, I don’t know. Get some rest for the night. Tomorrow we’ll plan our assault. Tomorrow night we stop Erik in whatever he has planned.”

Logan nodded, accepting any sort of respite that could be had. He shoved Remy out the door, the others filing out with groans and sighs of distress. I moved to follow, unsure of if I would be able to sleep but willing to try. I would be no use tired tomorrow. 

“Alice,” Charles called out. “Stay a moment.”

I stopped, turning on the balls of my feet. “Yes?”

“Don’t be so harsh against Remy. He has good intentions.”

I grit my teeth. “Many people do things out of good intentions. That doesn’t justify what they do.”

“Tell me something, Alice. Why do you think Logan trusts him so much? After all, you know him best, know his nature,” Charles prompted, raising an eyebrow. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders.

“I really  _ don’t  _ understand why. Of all the people, I don’t know why he trusts Remy.”

“Because sometimes we trust the first ones to give us a straight answer,” Charles stared at me, mentally willing me into remembering something that was lost in the mix of my emotions so many years ago.

_ I sobbed, tugging weakly at the metal that was curled around my wrists, my body still in shock. Logan and Victor had tumbled out of the door long ago, the alarm wailing throughout the entire building. The cold air against my bare skin caused goosebumps to form, and I bit my cheek, trying to bite back the pain. My skin was still different in shade, my hair lighter in color. Blood trickled down my arms, drying and caking against my skin. _

_ “Let’s get you out of here.” _

_ My head whipped around to the door, where Logan stood, chest heaving, his shirt shredded and bloody. There was no recognition in his eyes, no clue that he knew it was me. After all, who knew what else had changed in my appearance. He walked over, his stride rushed. With almost effortless strength he bent back the metal that had been keeping me in place, guiding my arms around his neck.  _

_ He lifted me up, any word catching in my throat. I couldn’t speak, tears still streaming down my face. Logan jogged out of the facility, jumping over dead men, each with a tell tale three point stab or slash. Blood ran the halls, my own wounds refusing to heal.  _

_ “We’ll get out, I’ve got you,” Logan mumbled as he ran, his eyes alert, darting around. He pushed through a door and sunlight blinded me. Rays of sun bathed my body, causing a wave of warmth. It had been weeks since I last saw the light of day. I recoiled from the brightness, my eyes taking forever to adjust to the sunshine.  _

_ Logan ran, my body bouncing in his arms with every step. I faintly noticed a spot in the concrete where it had a severe depression, a limp body lying in it. Victor. He was barely breathing, his body unconscious. I shook, his awful touch still lingering on my skin.  _

_ “I’ve got you… I’ve got you…”  _

_ BANG. Logan lurched forward, a yell escaping his lips. He fell to his knees, my body thrown. I cried, the earth rough and painful. Blood gushed from where my head hit the concrete, a headache splitting my head in half. Another gunshot, another howl of pain from Logan. I crawled behind a piece of debris, trying desperately to switch, to heal myself and help Logan. There was another woman dressed in black lying across the lot, blood pooling around her. I could barely see the rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to breathe, her face ever familiar. The photograph that Victor showed me. It was her. _

_ Blood dripped from my blonde hair, staining it red, burning my eyes. A man walked from behind the smoke, a gun held high. His hair was disheveled, a glare on his face. Logan pushed himself from the ground, the bullets falling from his back. He growled, the noise turning into a battle cry, the blades from his arms appearing.  _

_ He sprinted towards the man, every muscle in his body taut and tense. I heaved myself forward just enough to see the man take a few steps backward, his gun still trained on Logan. One shot and Logan faltered slightly, the bullet tearing through the flesh in his shoulder. Another shot. The man scrambled backwards, panic faintly flashing across his face as Logan ran, launching himself from the top of some debris.  _

_ There was no way the man was going to survive. I had seen that Logan before, one that ran on pure rage and anger alone. There was no stopping him. _

_ Another. Shot.  _

_ The sound echoed around the island, Logan’s yell silenced. It was a clean shot, straight into his forehead, and I felt time slow. Logan fell, his entire body rippling on the impact. His breath left him, his body deathly still. A scream wracked my body, stripping my throat. This wasn’t right. That shouldn’t be possible. The man lowered his gun, his chest heaving.  _

_ Taking a step forward, he examined Logan’s body. Raising the gun, he shot Logan in the head again, his body convulsing. The air caught in my lungs as I struggled to breathe, my heart pumping irregularly, adding to the pain I felt. No. _

_ Satisfied, the man strode over to the woman, her eyes meeting his. I stared as he lifted the gun to her head, but he paused. Her hand gripped his leg, the gun shaking as the man’s hand turned until the barrel was pointed at his head. His back was to me, but I could see her lips moving, their words being exchanged. Pull the trigger you bastard.  _

_ Instead he dropped the gun, a dazed look on his face as he turned around and walked away. There was no true direction, the way he walked, his feet shuffling against his will. The woman’s body stilled, the last of her breath leaving her.  _

_ There was no mending this. No fixing what had been taken from me for a second time. I pulled myself to my knees, blood pooling around me. My consciousness was slipping, my body weakening from the loss of blood. Logan would live… wouldn’t he?  _

_ Rocks scraped at my legs as I dragged myself closer, my body freezing upon realizing that Logan’s chest was rising and falling. Everything after happened so quickly, my body unable to keep up with it all, excitement flooded my mind. I could have him back. I could mend this.  _

_ Logan sat up, looking around him blearily. His fingers made their way to the dog tags around his neck, an unfamiliarity in the motion. Something was off about the way he moved though and I swore my heartbeat slowed to the pace of a snail.  _

_ “The kids are safe.” The voice that spoke was gruff but smooth at the same time, an accent hindering the clarity of his words. His hair was long and his coat met his knees. I watched as he paused, taking in the man sitting in front of him. Logan seemed to be observing every little bit about this newcomer too as he stood. _

_ “Who are you,” Logan whispered, wariness in his voice. Confusion weaved the other man’s face as he took a step to the side.  _

_ “What do you mean, who am I? I’m the guy who brought you here, now we gotta go,” the man strode towards Logan, urgency growing in his words. Logan’s arms shot out, grabbing the man by his coat. The man recoiled back, surprised by the burst.  _

_ “Where the hell am I?” Logan growled, his actions becoming increasingly hostile.  _

_ “Listen to me,” the man explained, raising a hand. “I’m a friend… I’m a friend.” _

_ Logan eyebrows furrowed, his grip tightening. “Oh yeah? Then what’s my name? What’s my name!” _

_ My heart sank, hopelessness setting in. This wasn’t good. Nothing about this was good. I couldn’t fix this. I couldn’t fix someone who couldn’t even remember what I was trying to fix in the first place. The man forced himself into a calm, his hand still raised out in front of him. “Your name is Logan… You need to trust me. We have to go.” _

_ Logan shoved the man away, his eyes flashing left and right. The two stared each other down, one trying to silently urge the other to move.  _

_ “Follow me,” the man said, his walk turning into a jog. “Now!” _

_ The two ran, both leaving my vision. I collapsed, my forehead against the dirt. Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood. I screamed, the sound silent as I mourned something that had been mine for so long. Everything hurt, my mind, my bones, my heart. _

The feeling flooded my soul, an emotion that I hadn’t wanted to ever feel again. A memory that I refused to think back on, but something about it was different this time. Charles stared at me, his hand open to the door.

“The first real answer,” he said solemnly, his head nodding. I turned and walked out, dazedly walking back to my room, past the darkness that still littered the front foyer. A face burned into my mind, one that now felt more familiar than ever, the one that had picked Logan back up and helped him back into reality, the one that I had pushed so far into the back of my mind all those years ago.

The face of Remy LeBeau.


	12. Chapter 12

Nightmares plagued our minds that night, no Genevieve there to comfort our fear and anxiety. People wandered the hall, avoiding the foyer like the plague. A scream from Storm’s room, a cry from Jean and Scott’s. I laid on my own bed, my eyes bloodshot. The ceiling fan above me turned and turned, rhythmic. What a simple purpose it had. If life were that easy.

A roar erupted from Logan’s room, the wall muffling the noise. It was silenced, and I sighed. There was something in that blood that came from Gen. Something that drove the rest of us over the edge. I pushed the back of my head into the pillow, thinking of how Genevieve lived with that darkness everyday, yet somehow found a way to help the rest of us. 

The memory of Remy and Logan ran through my mind, replaying over and over again. There was no way… no wonder Logan trusted him so much. A slight pang of regret stabbed my heart as I thought about the way I had been treating Remy. It was somewhat unnecessary, but every other part of my head told me to leave it. No changing it, just fixing. 

Fixing. Screams and yells and cries broke through the silence of the mansion and I brought my hands to my ears. There would be no sleep tonight, that much was obvious. That didn’t stop me from wanting to sever Victor’s head from his body that much more, each shriek tacking on to the force behind my anger. I heard Logan cry out again, this time drywall ripping above my head, three sharp spikes protruding from the wall. I exhaled, sitting up, checking to make sure I was far enough away from the wall to not get hurt. The blades disappeared back where they came from and I frowned. Logan must be having one hell of an awful nightmare… 

My feet met the cool ground and I leaned forward, standing. Darkness trailed me as I walked, snaking around my ankles, threatening to trip me. I grabbed a sweater from where it laid on a chair near my bed, pulling it over my chest. Even the warmth that should have come from the cloth had a chill to it, a wickedness. I glared at the pile of dirty socks in the corner of my room, cursing myself for the lack of cleaning. The tendrils of darkness twirled around my calf, tugging me back to my bed. I knew it was coming from the blood, but I wasn’t about to give it that much satisfaction, not if I could help it.

Opening up the bathroom, I stared at the door across from me, the one that led to Logan’s room. I sighed, hesitation causing me to pause. Another yell tore through Logan and I bit my cheek. Maybe it would help. Even if he couldn’t remember, or couldn’t understand why, maybe I could help. I grasped his doorknob, walking in. I felt the temperature drop immediately and I froze, trying to breathe. My breath came out in clouds of warmth, my toes quickly turning into ice cubes. 

Oh no, no, no, I was not about to deal with this chill. I walked lightly around his room, trying to find where he mainly kept his clothes. I bustled through his drawers quickly before finding a pair of clean socks. I grinned, turning around. Logan tossed and turned on his bed, the sheets shredded. My smile disappeared as I slipped into the socks, the end of them almost reaching my knees. 

Darkness swarmed his bed, twining around his head. My spirits lessened as I cautiously walked forward, my footsteps soundless. Logan grunted and thrashed, his clothes drenched in sweat. I waited a moment until he stilled enough for me to touch his shoulder. 

Logan’s eyes blearily flashed open, his breath quickening. His claws slashed my arm making three clean slices along my forearm. I clenched my jaw, the wounds healing as quickly as they had come. His eyes finally focused on me and Logan stilled, confusion beginning to form. 

“Shh,” I cooed, laying on the empty space next to him, no part of me under the sheets. Logan laid on his back, still, as he had been pulled from whatever nightmare plagued him. I adjusted my head, our shoulders touching. 

“You’ll--” Logan started and I shook my head.

“Shh. Go back to sleep.” My hand trailed down his arm as I blindly searched for his hand. My soft fingers intertwined with his calloused ones and I let out a low breath. Logan’s body was stiff, only our shoulders and arms touching as we laid side by side on our backs. 

Logan’s eyes drooped as he fell back into his nightmare, although this time he wasn't thrashing nearly as much. Just a groan or moan here and there. I stared at the ceiling, at the shadows that danced because of the fan. I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep tonight as much as my body objected to it. My thumb traced over the back of Logan's palm, softly comforting the distressed man. 

So close to how it used to be. Logan used to get nightmares from his past wars, causing him to wake up in a cold sweat. Something about my presence had made it easier for him. I’d never know why, but I just helped him as much as I could. 

Darkness swirled above us, and Logan jerked side to side, whimpers and grunts joining the screams of the others in the house. I kept my breathing low, the room only getting colder and colder by the hour. Every part of my body screamed for sleep, yet my eyes refused to close. 

My thoughts floated like the shadows above me, Logan’s breathing finally settling into a deep rhythm. I smiled, exhaling through my nose. What was I joking. Would I ever tell him? Ever try to make him remember, or try to create something new between us? I thought back to our true youth, when it was just the three of us. The three musketeers, just children armed with weapons, living as normally as we could muster. James wasn’t always Logan. Victor wasn’t always jealous and envious. I wasn’t always as romantic as I seemed.  

I let out a laugh, a grin growing on my face. Without any adults around to reprimand us for manners and ‘improper’ behavior, we ran wild. Granted, the first couple of years were lived in fear of being taken back, but after was an entirely different story. There was around a decade where we lived on our own, until Mrs. Perkins found us and forced us into some manners.

James and Victor enjoyed the freedom of not having to be bound to one girl, the thought that they were in their prime causing them to sleep around quite a bit. Soon I found confidence in myself, the three of us a gang of dirty whores. Victor and I argued over small things, although there was nothing ever that serious. James always managed to smooth things over with a joke or he played judge for a fight. 

_ “And I do believe Alice won this round Vic,” James grinned, crouching down next to Victor’s face which was buried in the floor. I smiled triumphantly as I sat on top of him, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other pushing his head to the ground. I wore trousers, the equivalent to sin in womens fashion, but a dress was simply annoying.  _

_ “Jimmy I swear you helped her,” Victor mumbled jokingly, wiggling underneath me. “Coped a damn mouse in the process.” _

_ “She threw an elbow,” James laughed, his hand gently touching his eye. The blue and purple of a bruise was fading fast and I laughed. “Looks like I was standing too close.” _

_ “You most certainly were,” I grinned, glancing at his short tangled hair. I couldn’t quite remember the argument that Victor and I had had this time, but it was no matter. _

_ “Lissie, am I allowed to stand now?” Victor asked, placing his hands near his shoulders, pushing up. I gleefully yelped before jumping up, standing next to James who rested his arm on my shoulder. I tilted my head, my arms crossed as we watched Victor get to his feet. _

_ “Now can we get some damned food?” James questioned, turning his hand in the direction of the kitchen. I sighed, reaching out my hand for Victor. _

_ “If Mr. I’m-The-Best over here admits that not all women are beneath men,” my eyebrow twitched, a sly smirk on my face. _

_ “In what context? Because I mean there are some pretty enjoyable instances,” James leaned close, his breath hot on my ear. I swatted him away, a gasp escaping my lips.  _

_ “James!” _

_ “You know I'm right,” he grinned, winking. There was something about that devilish smirk of his, but I had yet to find out quite what. _

_ “Was that a challenge?” I purred, arching my eyebrow. He stood almost a whole head taller than me, an achievement that he had finally accomplished a few years earlier.  _

_ “Give me the chance and I’ll prove my theory,” he jabbed, taking a step closer to me. Our faces were close, our breaths held. Both of our faces held a challenge mixed with intense lust. That’s all we were… lustful creatures forever looking for a thrill. Except tonight we wouldn’t have to look all that hard. Victor cleared his throat behind us, a slight grin on his face. _

_ “I’ll be staying at Elizabeth’s house tonight, if anyone objects to that,” he spoke, eyeing the two of us. James broke our stare and looked to his brother, his smile widening.  _

_ “Be my guest,” James encouraged, and Victor nodded and dramatically threw on his coat. Planting a kiss at the top of my head, he bid us a goodnight. James exhaled, turning his attention back to me. He grabbed my chin, tracing his thumb over my lips. I moved my head back, just beyond the reach of his fingers, my tongue clicking. _

_ “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” I teased, my head tilting. “What do you wager? I do not fall so easily to a boy such as you.” _

_ James eyebrows rose, his mouth parting slightly. “I am no boy. I wager that you will fall. What say you?” His eyes were dark as he said it, his own head tilting to mirror mine. _

_ “I say that our bet has been made.” _

_ Our lips clashed against each other, hot passion and immense desire in our movements. We bumped into walls and furniture, but I forced myself to stay aware of the original bet, my own gambit that I would need to defend. _

_ Voices were hoarse, skin sweaty as we gave into the lust between us, tension releasing itself. So close. _

I blinked, my eyes burning. The sun peeked through the window, the darkness dispersing. Perhaps the toxicating part of the blood had finally faded, the school settling into an eerie quiet. I could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping at the edges of my mind from the lack of sleep, but I knew that soon we’d be on our way to Colorado to stop Magneto and Victor.

My grip on Logan’s hand had loosened, our shoulders still touching. I heard the change in his breathing, his own grip on my hand strengthening. He squeezed, a silent thank you, and I let out a breath.

“Nightmares are nasty things,” I whispered, staring at the ceiling still. “The worst kind of torture.”

“Yeah,” Logan groaned, adjusting the way he was laying. His shoulder almost crushed my own, my body pushing itself into the bed. We settled back into a silence, prolonging the moment we would finally have to get up.

“Why did you do that?” Logan spoke up, his eyes not leaving the fan above us. I shrugged as best I could, our hands still holding.

“I knew I sure as hell didn’t want to be alone and you were the closest one,” I blew off, trying to think back on ‘how to flirt’. Hell that manual was a few decades out of date, I hadn’t had a need for it anyway really. 

“Bullshit, Bub,” he said, sitting up. I laid there, taking a deep breath. Logan turned to look at me, carefully bringing my hand to his lap. His hair was wildly skewed around him, his shirt still drenched from the night. 

“You’re right.”

“Then why?”

“Can’t say,” I closed my mouth, my jaw clenching. Honestly I couldn’t put it into words without sounding absolutely insane. So I’d rather say nothing at all. Logan leaned over me, his face directly above mine. 

“Why did you stay?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” I mumbled, closing my eyes. The lack of sleep was catching up to me, warmth returning to the previously freezing room.

“There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” Logan defended, and I let out a breath in exchange for a laugh. Stupid questions. Psh, there would always be stupid questions in this world. Ones with blatant answers, yet no true answer that could be answered in one sentence.

“What’s in mango salsa?” I questioned, opening one eye. Logan glared at me for a moment before letting out a laugh.

“I stand corrected.”

I grinned, sitting up. We sat cross legged on his bed facing each other. Logan had yet to let go of my hand and I wasn’t about to pull it away either. 

“You do,” I smirked, winking. Logan shook his head, looking down, a laugh on his lips. 

“What do you think is in mango salsa?” he entertained my question and I laughed, shaking my head quickly.

“Although it beats me, I’m going to educationally guess mangos,” I joked, attention turning to the door opening behind Logan. Logan twisted his body to look as well, his hand releasing my own. 

Remy’s head peeked in, a new look on his face. Sure, the normal gleam of mischief was there, but this time it mixed with a quiet excitement. Honestly, it was a bit unnerving. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Remy grinned, apparently unaffected by the darkness of the night that left everyone up, although I could see the bags under his eyes. 

“No,” Logan clipped, getting up off of the bed. He made his way to the closet, grabbing a change in clothes. I sat on the bed, staring at Remy, trying to pinpoint what he was so oddly ecstatic about. 

“Hmm,” Remy’s eyebrow arched for a half second before he looked at me, a look of subtle amusement lacing his features. 

“What is it?” I asked, tilting my head, my hands resting on my shins. 

“That's her!” A tiny voice called out, and Remy ducked into Logan's room, slamming the door behind him. 

“Remy, what the hell man?” Logan turned to face his friend, his hands out to each side in a  _ ‘what’ _ gesture. Remy’s grin widened as a small figure flew from underneath his collar. 

“That's her Remy!” The tiny voice squeaked again, and the figure flew straight at me, landing in my hair. I stilled, half freaked out and half curious as to what had Remy in such a good mood. 

“Alice, meet Tink,” Remy introduced, his hand waving from my face to my hair. 

“It’s Talia! Hello Alice!” The voice piped up again, light and adorable. I could feel her rustling around in my hair before she flew out and landed on the bed in front of me. 

She was no more than six inches tall, small fairy like wings resting behind her. Her hair was dark, short, and curly, framing her caramel colored skin that was littered with freckles. She wore a small yellow sundress although it looked like it had been made out of a handkerchief. 

“Tink?” I asked, smiling at the girl, holding my hand out to her. She beamed at me, climbing onto my palm. I lifted my hand until Tink was eyelevel with me, her small mouth in a wide smile. 

“That's me, I guess,” she happily shrugged, her hands pressing her dress down. “And you're Alice! You're the one who got me away from Victor!”

I reeled back, suddenly weary. “What?”

“That man! The one you talked to! While you guys were outside, I flew from his car to your backpack! You have a very messy backpack by the way,” Tink beamed, apparently ecstatic about her accomplishment. Logan and Remy both turned to look at me, the expectant look of wanting an explanation on their faces. I pursed my lips and closed my eyes.  _ Damnit.  _ But that did explain how my backpack went from the chair to the floor at the motel, as well as the shadows I had seen. 

“Some graduation, huh?” Logan said lowly, his eyebrow twitching. 

“I needed to ask some questions Logan. Shoot me for all I care. I didn't get any information anyway, except that Magneto and Victor probably have something to do with Gen’s disappearance. Sorry Remy,” I acknowledged, nodding my head to the man standing near the door. 

“Is that why you've given up on trying to kill me?”

“Generally yes…” I shrugged. That wasn't the reason, but my reason would make me sound crazy. Tink stood on my hand, clutching the tip of my finger for balance. 

“I got out because someone bumped into the cage they stuck me in. When it fell off of the table, it cracked and I squeezed through! I found Jack but he told me to go and find whoever let me out. I heard Victor talking about some people breaking in and that he was going to talk to one of them. So I followed!” Tink beamed, so very proud of herself and I frowned. Logan switched shirts before he paused, his head shaking. 

“What is it,” I asked, my eyes narrowing at him. 

“That's why we were out of there in such a rush. I knocked over this little black box of sorts. Everyone looked at us. We were hightailing it out of there when we ran back into you,” Logan explained, shrugging his shoulders. I clenched my jaw, my eyelids low. 

“Wow. Way to go there… just finesse your way around things,” I mumbled before turning my attention back to the tiny fairy like girl in my hand. 

“What happened to you?”  I asked her, thinking about the siren that was certainly human before. Maybe Tink was the same way?

“I don’t remember much…” Tink frowned, resting her cheek on her fist. “I used to be bigger though! I could swing and twirl and soar.”

The small girl flittered around my hand, flipping as she talked. “But one night… I met Jack… Jack was really nice. He was really nice to Josie and I. He was really nice to everyone actually. And then I woke up and I was little and I had wings! Then they stuck me in the box,” Tink mumbled towards the end, her eyebrows furrowing. Her bright demeanor darkened for a moment before Remy stepped forward and held out his hand.

“But then Logan over ‘ere let you out,” Remy smiled, moving his hand from where Tink hand jumped onto it to his shoulder. Tink sat on his shoulder, her ankles crossed and a small hand clutching a few strands of Remy’s hair. 

“He did! Thank you!” Tink replied brightly, her wide smile returning. I stood, rubbing my face. I was still exhausted, there was no avoiding that fact. Maybe I could sleep on the jet…

“Does Professor know she’s here Rem?” Logan asked, grabbing a pair of jeans before disappearing into the bathroom. 

“Ah yea, jus’ ask me a question and walk out of the room, why don’t ya’,” Remy muttered before reaching into his pocket and grabbing a deck of cards. “Yes, ol’ man Charles knows she’s here. The others already have the entire thing planned, you two just need to be ‘briefed’.” 

“Remy… I think you should have started with that…” I sighed. Time to go get briefed.


	13. Chapter 13

Storm and I raced through the underground compound, trying to get back to the siren. We had to get her out of there. I slashed at any mutant that ran towards us, my heart pounding. The lights burned brightly above us, our feet pummeling the floor beneath us.

“Ear plugs in?” I yelled, stuffing the little gel pieces into my ears. Storm nodded, shoving hers in. We reached the bright white door, and I shoved it open, the lock not quite latched. I could see the water below us splashing, the waves hitting the walls.

“Josie! Josie!” I yelled, remembering what Tink had said. Josie and Jack. We have to get Josie and Jack. The splashing died down I could see, but the world around me was silent. 

“We’re going to get you out of here! I’m…” I paused, thinking about Remy’s incessant push for me to have a nickname. ‘Everyone else has one!’ Fine. “I’m Switch! This is Storm!”

If there was a response, we didn’t hear it. We rushed to the part of the concrete walls that had an inset ladder leading to the water below.  _ Don’t drown, god, don’t drown us _ . I jumped to the ledge below, Storm following. Blonde hair appeared from below the water in front of us, drying completely the moment it hit the air. Hazel eyes full of fear and hope stared back at us, the scaly tail behind her a dull grey. Her mouth was moving, but it was doing only that. Moving. Storm and I grabbed each arm, pulling the siren on our backs. 

“It’ll all be okay Josie. Don’t freak out on us okay?” Storm went through the routine script we had talked about and the siren nodded, clutching our necks harder. I switched, my legs stronger. One good jump and we were back on the catwalk, the siren clinging to us desperately. Storm caused a small raincloud to form above us as it kept Josie damp and alive.

Once we were back into the hallway I looked left and right, making sure the coast was clear. Sure, the left was littered with dead bodies and our way out, but the right caused me to freeze. Logan’s body laid there bloody, broken, and dead. I inhaled sharply, confused and terrified. I blinked. Logan’s body was replaced with Rush’s, a knife protruding from his chest.

It wasn’t real, they weren’t real. It couldn’t be.

I nudged Storm, signaling for her to take Josie and continue on with our original plan. I needed to check out what was going on. She nodded and the two made their way back out of the lab. I cautiously jogged to the _thing_ in front of me, for it changed every time I closed my eyes. Yet, each time it showed something I feared.

I stepped closer, clutching the wrist of a young bleeding James, tears streaming down my face. Suddenly the young boy disappeared, melting away to reveal a man. He was tall, Logan’s height, and by any other sense of the term, _beautiful._ His grey eyes stared at me and I could see how broken he was. His dark hair was medium length and tousled, a thin scarf around his neck.

I paused, taken aback. I plucked the ear plugs from my ear, trying to listen to what the man had started to say.

“--couldn’t find one thing, can you… can you see me?” His voice was so full of an empty hope, his wrist twisting so his hand was in mine.

“Yes… yes I can see you,” I breathed, unsure of who this man was. There was something so gentle about him, something that told you he wanted nothing more than to _help_.

“You can?” He smiled, joy flowing into his silvery eyes. He squeezed my hand, relief flooding his features. “You can see me!”

“What is your name?” I asked, finally beginning to get a bearing on what was going on.

“Nightmare… no. It’s not Nightmare. My name is Jack. The others… they would… they called me Nightmare.”

I stared at the man, and I understood. He was another human that had been turned. It also explained everything I had seen, all of my fears displayed in front of me as I had neared him. He showed everyone's darkest fear, and it explained what Scott had seen our first time here.

“Hello Jack. I’m Switch. We’re getting out of here,” I gave his hand a helpful squeeze before turning around and running, listening for the accompanying set of footsteps that told me he was following. Running with him was different. The moment someone looked in our direction, although I had my knife at the ready, they would scream or cry or collapse all together. Apparently as we ran, Jack’s appearance altered to whatever the person in front of us was most scared of.

We reached the inside of the barn were Storm was having a hard time moving the siren. I paused, thinking about what came next.

“Jack, you need to help Josie out okay?” I lead him to the siren and Storm, both developing looks of terror upon seeing him. I did my best to calm them, but whatever they saw must have been awful. I looked at Jack, at the helpless sadness on his face as he tried to rid himself of the illusion.

“Josie close your eyes!” I yelled, thankful when she obliged. “Jack, you need to get Josie to the river okay? Go down a bit and you’ll see a jet! Stop there! Storm will keep the rain to help her until you get to the river. Hurry. Go!”

Jack nodded and picked up the siren bridal style, the fins of her tail curling around his ankles. Storm stood there in shock as he ran off until he was out of sight. I grabbed the ear plugs from her ears and screamed, pulling her back into reality. Masses of mutants came up from below the ground and I found myself fighting them off.

The ends of my hair stuck to my cheeks, the blood of others staining my clothes. Time shifted between slow motion and faster than light, a rhythm that kept my body alive. Bodies littered the earth around me as mutants attacked, most fighting for what they believed was right, but oh how wrong they were. I sprinted out of the barn, rejoining the major fight, the river carrying the siren far away from this place. Jack had followed, both products of experimentation that should have never taken place.

Thunder clashed and rain poured down creating a sky full of darkness. Flashes of red light struck out as Scott demolished most in his bath, bodies flying over my head as Jean threw them. I glared at the man floating above the soft earth, a helmet fit tightly on his head. Charles yelled at him, trying to convince him to stop all this madness.

Too bad the wrong can’t be persuaded.

I ran to them, determined to end this, to rip the helmet from Magneto’s head and let Charles stop him. My feet sloshed in the mud, the knife in my hand bared. Every step closer to him caused the temperature to drop, chilling me to my bones. I passed Logan who was knee deep in bodies, his suit progressively ripped and sliced, yet the skin lay unaffected beneath.

Jumping, I landed near Charles who barely looked my way, a strained look upon his face.

“Erik you must stop this! If you continue with this, we will be no better than the humans!” Charles pleaded with the other man, everything and more in his voice. I glanced between the two, attempting to get a grip on my bearings.

“They have no wish to understand us, Charles. Why do you still live under their rules? The rules of those who live so blindly? They only want power over us,” Magneto’s voice rumbled, matching the storm in force.

“This isn’t about power! It’s about right and wrong!” I yelled, forcing the man to turn his attention to me. I twisted the knife in my hand, examining the man, trying to find the sweet spot. The spot I’d need to kill him.

“There really isn’t a difference,” Magneto said gravely, turning his head to look at me.

“They live in fear, just as we do!” I shouted.

“Tell me dear, who will save you? If there were no other mutants on this world, who would save you. Certainly not the humans. We should be treated as gods of this world, yet we are cast aside and ridiculed,” Magneto stared at me, his arm stretched out.

I clenched my jaw, the rain stinging at my eyes. “I can’t answer that. You didn’t give me enough information.”

Charles looked to me, concern on his face. My stare never left Magneto’s as his confidence faltered. Perhaps it was out of surprise or out of sheer amusement of my apparent stupidity.

“What am I being saved from?”

The words sliced through the storm, thunder rolling above us. My eyebrow twitched, my grip on the knife tightening. This man may be one for power and competence, but how good was he at games.

“I have no need to save myself from humans. They are dust beneath my fingertips,” I snarled, Charles eyes widening. “Mutants are flesh and bone, the same as everyone else. Flesh I can slice through, bone I can break. I am one of them though, and I have no need to fight my own. So _you_ tell me, from what must I be saved?”

It was a power play, equal to his… an argument that surely would cause him into a degree of reason. At least a degree that would allow me time to kill him. Charles mouth opened slightly and I could feel the alter in my mind, the slight shift of things as he scoured my thoughts, trying to find what my move was. Magneto’s eyes locked with mine, but something flickered behind them that made my own stance falter.

“Yourself.”

Magento raised his arms, the piece of metal I was standing on throwing me back into the mud below. I wiped the earth from my cheeks and hatred coursed through my veins. I was going to kill him. I never got the chance.

Black boots stepped in front of me, leather hugging at a body that was once so pure. Blonde hair that curled around a pale face with red lips. Eyes that were an ocean, yet chained by an evil goddess. The light that flowed around her had returned, bright and white, yet nothing alike. This was the white of an attacking animals teeth, of poison after it’s tainted your blood. Genevieve.

She said nothing, her emotions empty as she raised her hands. Tendrils of black left her fingertips and suddenly I became aware of Remy who was lost in his own nightmare, anguish on his face as he tried to speak to Gen. I scrambled backwards, trying anything to escape the darkness that chased me, not wanting to find out what would happen if it met me.

My hand slipped in the mud and I fell on my back, the knife slipping from my grasp.

The battle raged on around me but it was on mute. Time slowed to a crawl, Dark Gen’s power seeping into every crevice of my life, searching for the worst in me. My breath caught in my throat, dark tendrils of black twirling around my face. I could see the battle raging on around me but it was shadowed by the pain that Dark Gen was forcing to the surface.

Magneto called from atop his building, a smirk on his face. “This is how humanity will end child,” he yelled.

“It will end in change, in disaster, in beauty. There will be no humans, only homo superiors. Only mutants. No one for us to fear, no need to fight. It will be a beautiful thing my child. First it must fall to ruin before we can build it back up in the way we need, just as everything must.”

I was barely aware of Charles yelling at Magneto as Gen seemed to find exactly what she was looking for. She finally spoke, her voice that was normally soft and sweet was a growl, a hiss behind her words that made me want to tremble.

“I will take pleasure in your pain,” she said lowly. The way she walked toward me was different, her hips swaying more than normal. I couldn’t fight her. This wasn’t her, but something controlling her. I’d seen the care in her eyes, the safety that others found in her. I couldn’t end that. But I could certainly hurt it.

My hand grappled for the knife near me, a memory flooding my vision. I screamed, hands flying to both sides of my head, my body curling in on itself.

The flash of Logan’s face, joyful and proud. Sweat on my forehead, pain in my stomach. The screaming of a baby boy, breathing in his first lungful of air. The happiness that followed, the disaster that I knew would trail.

The scream wracked my body, stripping my throat. I clawed at my chest, the pain in my heart unbearable. A pleasurable grin flashed on Gen’s face as I screamed, trying anything to make the memory stop.

“I’m so glad you chose the wrong one.” she snarled gracefully. Remy trudged closer, such pain on his face. Darkness curled around me, wrapping me in a suffocating embrace.

The shake of the doctor’s head as the baby cried uncontrollably. Coffins for babies are so tiny… so, so small. Their graves are even smaller, the days that mark the gravestone shorter than that. Logan’s distance, his cold touch, the rejection as I cried myself to sleep at night, clutching the blanket our child once slept in.

I struggled to grab the knife lying near me, its blade hovering over my stomach. I couldn’t handle the pain of the memory, the hurt in my abdomen. I could just cut it out, end it all. I continued to scream, the grin on Dark Gen’s face widening.

“It won’t do you much good. God know’s how many times you’ve already tried,” her voice twisted around me. Tears streamed down my face as I pressed the knife in, slicing along my waist, the cut healing as I sliced. It was no use, it never had been.

A flash of deep red, a war cry ripping from Remy as he launched himself onto Gen’s body. He pinned her to the ground, his own hot energy tangling with her darkness. I was released from her hold, the world around me clearing again. I heaved, my legs weak as I struggled to stand. I needed to get away from her if I wanted to be remotely useful still.

I blearily looked around me, trying to find somewhere else to go. Lightning flashed overhead as smoke poured around me and I heard an ever familiar roar, one that would haunt me until the day I died. My head whipped around, my eyes locking in on Victor who was stalking behind Logan, his claws out. Logan slashed at the mutants around him, completely unaware of Victor’s presence.

_No._

I took off sprinting, bounding over various fights around me, thinking only of the way Victor hated Logan. Logan wouldn’t stand a chance against Victor, and he knew it. I slid, my boots grinding against the asphalt as I slashed at Victor’s hands, a scream tearing itself from my lungs.

There I stood, between Victor and Logan, momentary surprise on both of their faces. Victor recovered quicker and bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. I dug my feet into the hard earth, Logan recovering from his shock.

“Oh look Jimmy, if it isn’t the the female lion forever protecting her mate. Will you always have her around?” Victor growled maliciously and I bit my tongue. I could hear Logan’s sharp inhale before Victor took a step toward us.

“Shut your damn mouth,” I snarled, raising my own hands.

“What is he talking about?” Logan asked, his voice low. I shook my head, my back still to him.

“Don’t--”

“Does he not remember Lissie? Have you not told him?” Victor continued, knowing exactly what he was doing. He took another step closer and I shuffled backwards, pushing Logan behind me.

“Alice, what--”

“Both of you shut up. Victor, I promise you I’ll cut your damn tongue out before I kill you. Maybe make things fair for once,” I said, lunging forward, my claws aimed straight for Victor’s ear.

That’s all that was needed to start our battle, the world disappearing around us. I snarled and screamed, matching Victors evil intensity, his roars and growls. I landed stabs and occasionally switched between my whip and claws. Victor sliced at my sides and my arms, his rage animalistic and pure brute force. There was no grace in the way he fought, only rough movements that could decapitate you if hit head on.

Logan stood away from us, flinging mutant after mutant away from us, no end in sight. They came pouring out from the barn, one after the other. I hardly focused on them though, my anger and attention turned to Victor. He was my only issue, the only recurring problem remaining in my damned life.

“You’re slowing down Lissie, need a break?” Victor mocked, my breathing becoming more and more labored. My head was spinning, the still blood pouring from my wounds. Why wasn’t I healing? I struggled to focus on Victor as he launched himself forward, his claws digging into my hips. I screamed and suddenly I felt it. The venom seeping into my veins, the toxin poisoning my blood.

Victor crouched above me, his mouth close to my ear. “I’ve always dreamt of you Lissie, but every dream is different. Sometimes you’re screaming. Sometimes you die without a sound… Which will it be today?”

I struggled to hit him, my muscles slipping from my control. He grinned, his face inches from mine before he stood, a woman walking up next to him. Her hair curled around her face, the locks a deep red. A sinister smirk caused her lips to curl at the corners, her arm resting on Victor’s shoulder.

He stood there, chest heaving and I finally saw his claws dripping with a mixture of my blood and poison. I shook, my body convulsing from the pain. I was barely aware of Logan fighting behind us as Victor and the woman looked at me like I was the best thing they had seen all day.

“See slut… no one loves you… not anymore,” the woman began, taking a step to me. There was an odd sense of triumph but jealousy in her words that I was trying to understand. It was damn near impossible though, blood pooling around me at an alarming rate.

“I do love seeing you lie on the ground like that though. A special poison of my own making… healing? A thing of the past for you bitch.  My darling Victor has had a vendetta against you since the day your whore boytoy escaped.” The woman walked closer, crouching inches in front of me. My muscles were taut against my will, any sort movement almost impossible. Possibilities flashed through my head, my mind desperately trying to think of anything to get me out of the situation.

“After you went running off, Victor found me,” the redhead purred, her nail dragging against my cheek. Sweat mixed with the blood, my body shivering from the loss of warmth while also burning up from the fever.

“Looks… looks like he’s less… less than thrilled about that,” I spat, looking past the woman to Victor whose glare faltered.

“What lies,” the woman spat, landing a sharp kick to my ribs. I yelped, choking on the blood in my throat. How do I survive this? How do I get past all this toxin in my blood?

“See, it wasn’t very hard to turn your friend over there. She was already filled with darkness… I merely needed a way to control it,” the woman waved to Genevieve who elbowed Remy in the face, the man reeling back. “As for you… it wasn’t very hard at all. The beautiful thing about being a viper, well, I’m immune to any toxin or poison. Dabbling doesn’t affect me.”

I groaned, closing my eyes, the world around me having turned into nothing but a smoke filled blur. I could barely hear the grunts and growls of Logan behind me. An idea crossed my mind, but did I dare?

“Your body is still trying to heal itself… but that poison flowing in your veins is slowing you down until you’re as weak as a newborn... Oh? Did that strike a nerve? Quite the past you have locked up there in that head of yours,” Viper hissed, her hand clutching my face.

I did dare.

The pain deepened, my head spinning as I tried to survive, my DNA working as quickly as it could. I screamed, her nails puncturing my skin as she strengthened her hold. The blood flowed freely from my wounds, the rest of the world fading. I was wrong. This wouldn’t work. God, I’d bleed out before I rid myself of the poison, or I’d die slowly still trying to heal against the toxin.

A figure launched itself over me, tackling Victor, who had become distracted by Viper and I. The two figures tangled with each other, flashes of metal here and there confirming that it was Logan. I let out another scream as Viper dug her fingers into my wounds, black spots entering my vision. The battle continued on around us as I fell unconscious, my body working furiously to save itself.


	14. Chapter 14

“They were both affected differently,” I barely heard Charles’s voice as he explained something. “Genevieve’s consciousness was forced into the backseat of her own mind… she is still trying to find her way back. With Viper dead, the seedling that was controlling Genevieve should die as well. Alice on the other hand, she is in this limbo with herself. Her body is switching between cleansing itself of Viper’s poison and healing her wounds. They both need their rest.”

Footsteps trailed away, my eyes still firmly closed. I could feel it in myself of what Professor X spoke of. I was in a purgatory of sorts, yet both options still left me feeling like hell. Although it had sounded like everyone had left, there were still eyes burning themselves into my body.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Logan’s voice was dark, betrayal hiding in the words. There was an uncomfortable shift and I knew that Charles was still in the room as well. I drifted away lightly, yet pulled myself back to listen.

“It was her story to tell. I know little of her past, just what I saw when I met her,” Charles started.

“You told me you could help me remember. She was here for the past month and you said nothing?”

“She was going to tell you, I’m sure. After all, even she would want you to remember.”

Logan scoffed and I could hear his foot stomp against the wood. “Why didn’t she tell me earlier then? What’s so hard about that? I could deal with the fucked up power she had, something I had never seen before, but this? That wolf of a man said we were lovers.”

“Alice has had her reasons for everything--”

“And what reason to keep me from something that would benefit her? If we were oh so close, then you’d think she would want that back,” Logan spat, his temper shortening. I could feel my body slowly strengthening, my wounds gradually healing. I stayed still, biting my tongue back as well as the tears.

“Perhaps she wouldn’t want you back? Did you consider that you may be different from the Logan she knew?” Charles asked steadily, his finger tapping on the metal arm of his wheelchair. 

“So what?”

“Or… different from the James I knew,” my voice was barely there, scratchy and harsh. I couldn’t open my eyes, the light above me ever bright. Tears prickled at the edges of my eyes as I laid there, cursing myself for saying anything at all.

“Oh look, you’re up,” Logan growled and I could hear his footsteps as he neared me. 

“Logan stop,” Charles began.

Hands clutched the front of my shirt, my body being jerked up from where I laid. Pain blossomed at my sides and I could feel the blood flow into the white sheets. I struggled to open my eyes, tears streaming down my face. Logan held me inches from his face, pure rage causing his pupils to shrink to mere dots. Guilt and weakness filled my body as he breathed heavy, his jaw clenched.

“You  _ bitch _ . Why didn’t you say anything! Who am I? Other than some damned stamped out name on a piece of metal, who am I! How do you  _ really _ know me? Who was that asshole at the farm? Who. Are. You,” Logan shook, fury contorting his face into something awful, especially knowing it was directed straight at me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my body trembling from the pain. I grew dizzy again, but my headache was fading. As weak as my arms were, I managed to hold up my right hand, resting it on Logan’s arm. The ring that had hardly left my hand twinkled slightly, my eyes leaving Logan’s face and resting on the piece of jewelry.

“I’m so incredibly sorry… It was just…” I whimpered, staring only at the ring, refusing to look him in the eyes.

“What? Scared? Jealous? Why didn’t you tell me? Here for the bed?  _ Bullshit, _ ” Logan growled, the hatred still fuming under the surface.

“I… I don’t know what I was so afraid of,” I admitted, my voice broken and frail. “I’ve already lost everything… I… I didn’t want to find out what else I’ve got to lose. Thought I could just start all over again… or at least try.”

Silent tears streamed down my face as Logan slowly released his hold, anger ebbing away from some unknown force. Charles looked between the two of us, unsure of if to stay or go. I struggled to push myself to the head of the bed, trying to stay sitting up. I could subtly still feel my body switching between powers, the action becoming faster and faster as the poison left my blood stream.

Mumbling, I began to say all the things I should have started off with. “You don’t understand Logan… I was sure you didn’t love me anymore. You were there one day, and the next, you’re off with another woman… a cabin and happiness on your face. I couldn’t… couldn’t ruin that.”

“I have questions,” Logan said, sitting on the bed at my feet. He had redirected his anger into a silent fuming, something that scared me more than his outburst. Charles nodded once and turned around, making his way out of the room. This was something Logan and I needed to work out on our own.

“Ask them. It’s awful the secrets I know. Maybe they won’t weigh that much when they stop being secrets,” I answered, unable to look at Logan. I fumbled with the ring on my hand, eyes boring imaginative holes into the metal.

“What’s my name?”

I furrowed my eyebrows, realizing just  _ how much  _ I had kept from him, the severity of my crime against him. I wasn’t just avoiding a past that included myself, I had denied a man his own chance of learning his identity.

“James Howlett… you took on the name Logan later though… you just wanted a change. Logan was your father’s last name,” the little I answered, I felt I needed to elaborate.

“And what’s your name?”

“Alice Chamberlain. It never changed.”

“Why not?”

“Because there was never a need to… well actually… I was Alec for a bit… but that’s irrelevant,” I caught myself from rambling, sure that it was going to happen at some point. 

“How do we know each other?” I could feel Logan’s stare as I paused. These were still easy questions. 

“My mother was the head maid in your house. I was around to keep you company, along with Victor--”

“Who’s Victor?”

My breath hitched, finding that I had just jumped off a damn plane with no parachute, but instead a sewing machine and a bunch of fabric. Time to get stitching. And fast.

“Your half brother. That ‘wolf of a guy’ as you described him. He uh, he wasn’t always like that. Sure, short tempered and impatient, but not evil. Any… anyway, one night we left. The three of us ran away from the house, and we never went back,” I clamped my mouth shut, sparing a glance at Logan, attempting to gauge his emotions. Time to fucking ramble.

“Why did we leave? And how is that bastard my  _ half brother _ ?” The tone in Logan’s voice was disbelief, and boy, if I were on his end, I wouldn’t believe me either.

“You were sick. You got sick all the time… I went to go get you a glass of water. Victor stayed in your room to keep you company. Victor’s father was drunk that night. He was the groundskeeper and was in the house that night, angry at everything.” I hesitated, unsure of how much I wanted to say. All of it. You owe him that much. “He shot Master Howlett, your… your… he shot Master Howlett. I had walked into the room when you showed at the top of the stairs… you were so stricken with grief that your mutation developed. In a fit of rage, you stabbed Victor’s father… who was yours as well. Victor grabbed both of us, taking off into the forest. You and he promised that you would stick together always, because that’s what brothers did.”

Logan stared at me like I had just slapped him. He shook his head, looking down at his own hands. 

“When was I born.”

The question echoed in the otherwise silent room and I bit my cheek, scared of what he would say.

“1832.”

Logan balled his fists and I held my breath, almost back to full health. What was he going to do?

“I guess ‘old man’ isn't wrong. What happened?”

My eyebrow twitched, furiously trying to decipher what he meant. 

“Excuse me?”

He let out a low breath as he turned his gaze back to me. “What happened between us? Were we happy together?”

The inevitable. I’d managed to stitch together a decent parachute only to land in a swamp full of water moccasins. I took a deep breath before I began.

“We had our ups and downs, no doubt about that… but yes. We were happy. It was easy and simple and wonderful, the way we were. We laughed, even when you had to go off to war. I always knew you were coming back, you promised that much. God, I hate that you can’t remember anything. So many inside jokes, so many stories you told me when you and Victor got back. We were fearless, ready to take on anything the world threw at us. The night… the night that you gave me this,” I gestured to the ring on my finger, slipping it off and setting it in his palm. “You promised that you would come back from your assignment with Stryker and get rid of my original last name. ‘Finally get me to change some part of my name’, as you put it.”

I smiled weakly, tears dripping from my chin. I shook my head, choking on the words to come. 

“You never came back. After a few years, Victor returned and showed me a picture of… of you and a schoolteacher in the mountains, living happily.” I left out the bit about my time on Three Mile Island, jumping to the end. 

“Why would I leave you if you say we were so great together?” Logan asked, trying to find a chink in my truth. Trying to find my lie in a sea of honesty. There was none. 

“Beats me. I never got the chance to ask,” I shrugged, doing my best to shove away the sadness that was already creeping up. 

“Do you know why I can't remember anything? Remy doesn’t have a clue, as much as I pressed it,” Logan mumbled, scooting forward. I folded my legs against my chest, resting my chin on my knees. How much do I tell him? 

“It was Stryker… he shot you in the head.”

“So what? How does that change things? I’ve gotten shot in the head plenty,” Logan defended, tilting his head. I pursed my lips, momentarily clenching my jaw. A groan from Gen in the other bed made me jump, totally forgetting she was still in the room with us. She turned her head, quickly returning to sleep. 

“Adamantium bones Logan. Extremely strong, somewhat lightweight metal. It's our bones. The only thing that can pierce that is adamantium itself. Throw that into a bullet, you start to see the picture?” I didn't want to explain why I was hurt, why the schoolteacher was dying in the middle of it all, why I hid from him afterwards. “The bullet tore through your brain tissue. Broke whatever up there that held memories. Sure you healed, but your past didn't heal with it.”

Logan trembled with a quiet rage, his fists pressed into the bed on either side of him. I bit the inside of my cheek, hurting for him. Life had not been kind to him. To either of us. But what bliss I would accept if I could forget everything he had. 

“I'm sorry,” I whispered, pulling my legs closer to my chest. There was no more pain, my body completely healed and ready to go. Logan stared at the empty space on the bed in between us, his breaths shaky. Without a single word he stood, walking out of the infirmary. I choked on my breaths as I worried if I had said something wrong, other than saying nothing at all. 

I laid back down, curling underneath the sheets that covered me. A flash of the mermaid in her prison jerked me, my breath quickening. What had happened to the mutants we rescued?

I turned over on my side, staring at Gen who laid next to me. Her hair was around her face, softly shaping her features. I bit the inside of my cheek, thinking about how easily she had pulled my darkest days from the depths of my mind. Victor had been right. She was so much more powerful than what she showed. I was just glad that she was back to being  _ good  _ Gen. 

Letting out a low breath I sat back up, thinking about Tink and Remy. What had happened to them? Setting my feet on the cool floor, I stood, making my way out of the infirmary. 

The foyer of the mansion was bright and clean again, no black blood to taint our thoughts. I could see and hear the children playing outside, Scott and Jean supervising. Remy stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame. He gazed at the kids, where Tink’s tiny form could be seen clinging gleefully to another girls hair. 

I walked next to Remy, standing like a statue next to him. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him look at me, an almost careless grin on his face. His wrists were wrapped underneath his jacket, proof of the wounds dark Gen had caused. 

“You really put Logan in a mood didn’t ya’,” Remy said, turning his head to face the kids again. I pursed my lips, wrapping my arms around my body. I shrugged ever so slowly, my head softly tilting to the side. 

“I didn't mean to.”

“Sure you didn't. What happened?” Remy asked, his tone saying  _ ‘go ahead and rant’ _ . I opened my mouth, ready to explain everything before I paused, unable to make myself say anything. 

“C’mon Switch,” Remy said lowly, his hand moving to rest inside his jacket. “You can tell me.”

“It's a long story,” I mumbled, staring ahead. Remy moved next to me, an unusual calm to his behavior. 

“I've got plenty of time, and apparently so do you.” Remy’s hand flicked out of his jacket, a piece of paper held between his first and middle finger. It was the photograph of Logan, Victor, and I at the party, our faces bright. I grabbed it with caution, my gaze never leaving it. 

“Where did you…”

“Tink had grabbed it from your bag. She had pointed to Victor and explained what he did. That's how I knew what was happening,” Remy said solemnly. 

“So she didn't know Victor's name…?” I asked.

“All bullshit to keep this a secret. So you knew Logan before everything. You knew how he was before? Before he forgot everything?” Remy said, an unexpected hope in his eyes. I could feel the tears prickling at the corners of my eyes again, sadness flooding its way up. 

“Yeah,” I whispered, my throat becoming hoarse. I closed my eyes, swallowing. Remy noticed my increasing sad state and bit the inside of his cheek. 

“It’s also bullshit to not tell me you were a mutant.” Her voice cut against the happy hum of the space around us and I blinked. Eleanor stood on the porch in front of me, her arms crossed. It was the same Rush, just with more smile lines around her eyes and the same kickass mom muscles. She'd aged beyond me, compared to when we first met, where I had been playing an older brother of sorts. Her hair was to her shoulders, her mouth pressed into a thin line as she stared at me. The expression didn’t last long though as her pursed lips widened into a smile. 

“Eleanor... what are you doing here?” It was needless to say I was surprised. I dropped my arms, a tear running down my face. The photograph still hung loosely in my fingers, almost forgotten.

“We get our damned asses through the Vietnam war and you never shed a tear, but here you are,  crying over a  _ boy _ ?” Eleanor teased, stepping forward and embracing me in a hug. It was interesting, the way Rush was a hardcore killer and Eleanor was a loving mother, yet it was the same person. 

“How did you..?” I mumbled, hiding my face in the crook of her neck. She was always taller, while I had been the honey badger of sorts.

“I did a bit of research. I knew you were different as ever, and I’m not sure why, but this school spoke to me. After making a couple of quick calls, here I am. You missed Jess’s graduation by the way,” Eleanor lightly shoved me away, her eyebrow raising. I sighed, apologizing.

“Oh I know you’re sorry. So a mutant huh? How cool is that? What can you do?” My friend nodded to Remy in a quick hello before looking back at me, a grin on her face. I shrugged, allowing a small smile to creep up on my face.

“Lot’s of things. Let’s just say I most certainly wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for a little bit of biological help,” I joked, taking a step forward. Remy took that as his time to leave, as he disappeared into the mansion. 

“Well then. Aren’t you going to show me around?” Eleanor grinned and nudged me forward, silently being exactly what I needed. 

We walked around the school as I freely explained the parts of the campus, introducing her to the others. No one blinked twice at Eleanor as I introduced her, no concern on their faces at the fact of a human in the school. Jean even congratulated me on my ability to have a human friend, a luxury the others hadn’t been able to afford.

Eleanor and I walked near the pond where the siren swam, her tail a stunning array of greens and blues. She didn't speak, but her smile showed that she was clearly pleased with her new arrangement. I smiled back softly, remembering Jack. 

“Hey, follow me. I want to find someone,” I told Eleanor, waving my hand. I hustled through the hallways, peeking back on Gen who had turned over in her sleep. We dashed around as I checked the rooms, looking for Jack. 

It didn’t take long though. All I had to do was look for the locked door. I jungled the doorknob, it’s metal cool. Eleanor stood behind me, her arms crossed. 

“Are you even allowed in there?”

“Yes… but I don’t think you should go in,” I said, knocking softly on the wood. Eleanor shrugged and sat on a bench in the hallway, staring at me.

“Doesn’t look like you’re overly welcome,” she stated.

“Doesn’t look like a lot of things Rush,” I groaned, knocking harder on the wood. 

“Who’s there?” The voice was small, terrified. I winced, saddened by his fear.

“Hey there Jack… It’s Alice,” I called softly through the door. “Will you let me in?”

“Alice!” Jack’s demeanor changed in an instant, hope flooding his emotions. I heard the door rattle as he unlocked it, and I bit my lip.

“Eleanor, close your eyes until I’m inside, okay?” My friend let out a huff but did as asked, resting the back of her head on the wall behind her. The door swung open, revealing the towering figure in front of me. Jack had a wide grin on his face, his eyes bright although they were bloodshot. 

I took a couple steps inside, allowing him to lock the door again. I inspected his room, noticing the closed curtains and mirrors all facing away from him. Turning around to face him, I was tackled into a bear hug, Jack’s arms wrapping around my shoulders, otherwise crushing me. I stood there, unsure of what to do next. Quickly though, Jack let go, a smile across his face.

“You… you lived! I thought… well you were in pretty rough shape,” Jack shrugged, the entirety of his demeanor happy and charming. My cheek tugged to the side, the edge of my lip curling ever so slightly. 

“All part of the job,” I said.  _ All part of the job? Where did that come from? _ I shook my head microscopically as Jack bounced on the balls of his feet. “So why no mirrors? Haven’t you gone out and talked to the others?”

Jack stopped moving, his body becoming deadly still. I could see his jaw clench as his eyes flashed away from me for the slightest of moments. “I can’t look at myself.”

I furrowed my eyebrows, thoroughly confused. “I’m sure it’s not that bad. So you can turn yourself into people’s worst nightmare, huh? We can work on changing that. I’m positive that you can turn it off and on… at least generally. With that sort of hope, who says you can’t look at yourself in the mirror?”

I tried to cheer him up, deliver a sliver of different hope. Something other than ‘I can see you’. Jack’s eyes met mine, a mesmerizing ocean storm. He frowned ever so slightly as he shook his head.

“No. It’s not like that. I physically can’t look at myself. I see…” Jack choked up a bit as he glanced away from me. “I see my own nightmare. My sister… I see her dying. Or my mom, or my dad. Ever since they changed me, I live in a world of fear and pain.”

I bit my cheek, realizing that I was the only one who could help him, or maybe Charles… if Charles stayed on the outside of the room the entire time. Then a thought struck me, throwing a minor wrench in my mind.

“So then how can I see you? You said no one see’s you. Only something that terrifies them. So how come I can see you?” I asked, wrapping my hands around my elbows. Jack shrugged, looking at his feet.

“I can’t… and it’s not like I want to, but I can’t grab one thing that you’re the most afraid of. You’re kind of a chicken honestly…” he mumbled, refusing to meet my eyes. I nodded, my lips parted. 

“Hey, I might be scared of a bunch but it’s for good reason! And besides, I’m a chicken who can see you so don’t be so quick to call names,” I joked, letting out a laugh. That’s it. I’m helping this guy. 

“Yes ma’am,” Jack laughed hesitantly, flinching against the loud laughter of the kids outside. 

“Look Jack, I’m going to help you control this, okay? But I’ve got to do other things. I’ll be around to visit, I promise. I’ll bring you food too, okay?”

“Okay,” Jack was a conflicted mix of hope and sadness, but he walked me to the door, opening it hesitantly. I smiled and gave him a pat on the arm before walking out, finding Eleanor in a deep conversation with Charles. It surprised me, but I was glad that she was enjoying herself. 

I coughed just loud enough to make myself known and the two waved at me. 

“I’ll catch you later Alice,” Eleanor called, tossing me a grin. I smiled, nodding. 

The few days that passed next were filled with history lessons from the Industrial Age, daily trips to visit Jack, and major avoidances with Logan. He glared at me when I entered the room, or growled and left altogether. Bathroom encounters were the worst, ending with Logan yelling at me a few times, but otherwise, life was good. Eleanor went back home after a week or so, making some huff about worrying about college.

The routine I settled into was nice… and then Gen woke up.


	15. Chapter 15

“Look I’m just in here to get a Coke,” I grumbled, my head down. Logan glared at me from across the kitchen, unlit cigar between his lips. I’d just finished another session with Jack, his form flickering in the mirror apparently. It was adorable almost, the way Jack had seen his true reflection for a second and claimed that he needed a serious shave.

“Uh huh,” Logan growled, his eyes never leaving my body, as if I was going to kill him at any moment. I reached up to grab the Coke, a breath leaving my lips. The floor below me wobbled and I paused, gripping the shelf of the cabinet. Resting my forehead on my arm, I groaned.

“How long is this going to last? You’re holding on so hard to the past, please just catch up and live in the future,” I said. I picked my head up and looked at Logan who’s glare had turned into something sinister.

“What past? The one you know all about when I can’t remember a bit of it?” He shot back, malice in his voice. I dropped my hand, twisting my body to face him.

“And by god, I wish we could trade places then! Your past sucks! Mine sucks worse! It just a bunch of death and pain mixed with the occasional drunk night on your part! You’ve got metal in your bones! Big fucking deal! What’s done is done, but shit! At least blame it on the person who took your memories away… I can’t give yours back. I’m done with this… whatever this is! This avoidance, these looks in the hall, your constant fuming anger! I just wanted to love you again… I wanted some reciprocation. I wanted… I don’t even know anymore. Not… not this. But I’m glad I found you, even if it was only for a short time,” I screamed, my voice almost a whisper by the time I was done. I spun around, about to march out of the kitchen when I heard Logan’s chair squeal as he shoved it back and stood.

“I've been a monster my entire life. A freak of nature, changed by man to do their bidding, as you say. What I don't understand is why you want me so badly,” Logan growled, walking closer. “There is nothing you could love here. I'm sick of feeling like I’m dragging myself to achieve some sort of higher purpose. I'm sick of feeling like a monster, but I'm sick of fighting it. You’d only be--”

“I'd only be what, Logan? I've been through it all. There's nothing you could do to hurt me… except this.” I stared at him, willing him to realize how selfish he was being, for me to realize how selfish I had been. “And you weren't a monster. You never were.”

I turned away from him again, fighting the weak feeling my muscles, the emotion that dragged me down, that made me want to just drop where I was and lay there and never move again for the rest of time. I could hear Logan’s footsteps behind me as he stopped in the doorframe of the kitchen, staring as I walked down the hallway.

Then she walked up. Genevieve. She walked with a new hesitance, the sort that you have when you're afraid of your own shadow. I didn't blame her. Her shadow had devoured her, tortured her and the rest of us, only to spit her back out and run off.

“Hey Gen,” I said softly, pushing away the single memory she had dug up from the deepest part of my mind. That wasn't her that did that. It wasn't her.

“Alice,” she said airily as she offered me a small smile. There was a sadness in her eyes, as small as it was, that told me she must have remembered something that she had done.

“How are you feeling?” I asked her, noticing the way she moved her hands away from me.

“I'm feeling better. Better than I have in a while. I just ate a chocolate bar… it tasted good.”

I laughed softly, bringing my hand up and resting it lightly on her shoulder before letting it drop again. I bit my cheek, unsure of if I should follow through with my previous decision.

“That's good. There's more food in the kitchen, along with Logan. Jean is in the lab, Scott in the garage with a class. I think Storm has a group as well. Charles has been waiting for you to wake up. We all have,” I told her, bidding her a nod. She nodded her head back and took soft steps to the kitchen, Logan still standing in the doorway.

He smiled at her, taking one last glance at me. Gen stopped in front of him, and I could tell something was up. She wasn't walking inside. Logan sensed it too as he tried talking to her. I took cautious steps towards them, concerned.

“Logan. You really should come visit me,” she said simply, reaching her hand out. Before he could move out of the way, Gen rested her hand on his cheek, a kind smile on her face. Logan stiffened, his eyes locked with hers, and I realized… they had never once touched each other. After all, they had never needed to.

“You've been here all this time Logan, and it wasn't until I could see nothing that I realized I could help you see everything… your anger towards Alice. I hope this mellows it,” Gen said kindly, her thumb caressing his cheekbone. She dropped her hand, smiling brightly at the stilled man.

Gen turned and smiled at me before walking into the kitchen, leaving Logan and I facing each other. His eyes locked with mine before he began searching my features. Something about him changed. It was if he became calm, furious, and joyful all at once and was having a hard time selecting which one he wanted.

“I'm… I’m so sorry,” he whispered. I froze, tilting my head. Logan… this Logan… saying _sorry_?

“What did you just say?” I asked, my heart fluttering with a small hope.

“I'm sorry. God… you haven't aged a day… still so… stunning,” Logan breathed, walking towards me. It was recognition. That's what I saw in his eyes. Hope and recognition.

“James?” I whispered, hands hugging my elbows.

“I'm so sorry Alice. I'm so sorry for leaving,” Logan ran forward and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me off of the ground. He pressed his lips to mine with a hunger, a hunger that he'd had for half a century.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and head, running my fingers through his hair. Was it real? Logan set me down, his hands cupping my face instead. He brushed a stray piece of hair behind my ear and I pressed my cheek into his palm. Tears prickled my eyes.

“You came back to me… you came back.”


	16. Epilogue

_Genevieve healed Logan’s broken synapses… the kind that weren't vital to his health. His memories._   
_Life returned to as normal as it could be, my new life set on teaching children about history. Gen and I talked often, Jack and Josie learning how they now fit into the world._   
_Victor disappeared… he’d ran once he realized that Logan could still beat him… he'd ran once Magneto failed. I hoped I never saw him again, and if I did, it would be the last time._   
_I knew it was right to say hello._


End file.
